


Unsinkable

by Sasswarrior



Category: Lunar Chronicles - Marissa Meyer
Genre: F/M, Jacinter, jacin x winter, kaider, kinder - Freeform, marissa meyer, the titanic, wincin
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:42:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 13
Words: 31,973
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26674585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sasswarrior/pseuds/Sasswarrior
Summary: Winter Hayle is trapped after her beloved father dies and her stepmother forces her into a loveless marriage with a man that Winter despises. She boards the Titanic with her wretched step-mother and assorted extended family, leaving her English home to go to America. While on the ship, Winter meets a man named Jacin after a near death experience, and begins to fall in love with him despite their class differences.But is their love as unsinkable as the Titanic?
Relationships: Jacin Clay/Winter Hayle-Blackburn, Kai/Linh Cinder, Scarlet Benoit/Wolf | Ze'ev Kesley, Winter Hayle-Blackburn/Aimery Park
Comments: 46
Kudos: 30





	1. You Jump, I Jump

The clinking of glasses and inconsequential chatter around Winter perfectly matched the interior of the first class dining hall of the Titanic. Everything around her portrayed sophistication and grace, from the delicate china to the chandeliers above. Even Winter herself fit in perfectly with the scene around her, dressed in a flowing yellow dress that went to her wrists and ankles in a fluttering splendor that caught one's eye. Not that Winter was trying to catch anyone's attention— she wouldn't dare.

From across the table, Winter's stepmother pointedly lifted her chin at Winter, and Winter raised her chin. She absolutely despised her stepmother— the woman who had swept in only days after the passing of Winter's mother and taken over everything. She was a woman filled with cruelty, whereas Winter's mother had been nothing but light.

Of course, even Levana would have been possible to bear if Winter's father was still around. She had grown worse in the months since Evret Hayle's death, controlling Winter's life with full reign. But now she had gone too far, forcing Winter into a marriage with a man she hated, and dragging her from her England home all the way to America.

"Are you alright, snowflake?" Aimery touched Winter's icy fingers with his own, moist, meaty ones. Winter _hated_ that name. No, what she really hated was Aimery— the cruelest man upon the earth, and her fiancé.

For years and years, Aimery Park had circled around her like a vulture, waiting for the moment when her family was weakest— waiting to ask for her hand in marriage. He asked four times, and Winter had held out hope that he would forget her and move onto some other brainless rich girl who didn't care about love. But of course, he never did. It wasn't until Winter's father died that she accepted his proposal, begging her stepmother to allow her to say no.

Winter cried into her pillow for hours after her stepmother's verdict: "You must marry him. If you refuse, we'll both be ruined. How selfish are you to have opposed such a wonderful, rich young man for so long?"

So Winter accepted the proposal, plastering her brilliant smile upon her face while her heart shriveled up and died.

Suddenly, the room felt all-too small, as if she were trapped in an insect jar, and there were no holes carved into the top. She bolted from her seat, brushing off Aimery's hand and muttering "I need some air," before rushing out of the dining hall.

She burst forth from the crowded first class dining room and onto the deck of the ship, feeling the immediate chill of ice-encrusted air tearing through her chiffon dress like the vicious bites of an army of ants. She stumbled past a bench that held some lump of material, and toward the bow of the ship.

Her dress trailed behind her as a single speck of color in the night— a dash of sunshine within the dark. Dark tendrils of hair spilled around her face, the curls falling from her once intricately neat bun on the back of her head. But she didn't care about how she looked; no one was around to see her, and even if there was a soul upon the deck, she still wouldn't care.

Falling upon the railing, Winter released a wail into the night. Tears streamed down her face and into the black water below her. She watched as her own salty tears fell into the inky depths below her, and felt the pull towards the water, as if a siren sung below, calling her into oblivion.

As if in a trance, Winter pulled herself up upon the railing and over to the other side, setting her feet carefully on the very edge of the bow. Her shaking hands clutched at the railing from behind as she leaned forward into the blackness. If she let go, she would fall into oblivion.

"Don't do it," a voice called out from behind her, calm, yet warning.

Winter turned, her hands still clutching at the cold metal. Black curls flew into her eyes and onto the three tear-like scars tracing down her cheek. Her sunshine yellow dress flapped about her, making a loud whipping sound against the roar of the wind.

She took in the boy behind her— his features were striking, with long blond hair, and ice blue eyes that seemed to pierce her very soul. His face was somewhat angular and pointed, but the soft curve of his mouth was only gentleness.

"Stay back," Winter called, her voice near a shout. "Don't come any closer!"

The boy took a step closer to her. He stood only about ten feet from Winter, with a single hand outstretched toward her. "Just take my hand," the boy soothed, slowly coming within arms reach of Winter. "Just take my hand and I'll pull you back over."

"Get back!" Winter screamed, leaning farther out into the open air. "Get back, and I mean it! I'll jump!"

He dropped his arm to his side, and put both hands inside his grubby coat pocket. It was only then that Winter realized that he was the mound of fabric that had been upon the bench. His clothes were filthy, and his coat and trousers were speckled with holes. Yet somehow, he managed to look dignified— almost regal despite his grimy appearance.

His blue eyes bore into Winter and he tilted his head, as if examining her. He took another step forward, only a couple feet from her. "No you won't," he said, pale hair falling into his eyes.

"Don't tell me what I will and won't do," Winter scoffed, turning from him and staring out at the sea. Nothing but a pale half moon illuminated the vast expanse, casting a few lines of pale blue upon the choppy ocean waves. "You don't know me, so don't pretend that you do."

"Well," the boy shrugged, then turned to look out at the ocean. "If you were going to do it, you would have done it already."

Heat climbed up Winter's cheeks despite the cold, and she narrowed her eyes at the boy. "You're just distracting me. Go away."

"I can't," the boy muttered, a sly smirk upon his lips. "I'm involved now. If you let go, I'm gonna have to jump in there after you."

He pulled off his coat, folding it once before he set it upon the ground, leaving only a thin cotton shirt and suspenders to protect him from the wind. Then he leaned down, untying his boots and pulled them off his feet in one swift motion, setting them beside his coat.

"Don't be ridiculous," Winter scoffed, blinking a strand of hair from her eyes. "You'll die if you follow me."

"I'm a good swimmer," the boy said, placing his hands upon the railing, his fingers only inches away from Winter's own.

Winter glanced at his hands— they were pale and thin, with long fingers. For some reason, she found them to be the most beautiful hands in the world.

She snapped back, her eyes leaving the boy's hands, and jumping back to his crystal eyes. "The fall alone would kill you. Your broken body would simply sink to the bottom of the sea."

"It would hurt," the boy grinned, standing up on his toes as he peered into the vast sea. "But it wouldn't kill me."

Winter rolled her eyes, but kept them trained upon the sea. She longed for the nothingness— to get away from her wretched stepmother and loveless fiancé. To no longer exist seemed a better option than living the remainder of her life with people she hated.

"To tell you the truth," the boy continued, biting his lower lip. "I'm more concerned about the cold."

"What do you mean?" Winter asked, her head snapping toward him. It was already cold out— she didn't see how it could get much colder.

"Water like that," the boy clucked, shaking his head as he did so. "It's so cold that it practically feels like flames are licking your skin. The pain bites at you like a thousand knives piercing your flesh."

Winter turned her head back toward the water, feeling the gentle mist waft up to her face. The air itself was already freezing— she could hardly imagine a cold like the one this boy was describing to her. Already she couldn't feel her hands, and her legs tingled with a lack of feeling.

"Have you ever been to Wisconsin?" The boy asked her, turning his inquisitive eyes back upon Winter. His breath fogged the air around them, whisping away into the night.

"What?" Winter snapped.

"Wisconsin," the boy repeated. "It's where I grew up. They have the coldest winters there. One time I was out on a frozen lake with my father and fell through some thin ice. The water was freezing, and I've never endured anything more painful in my entire life. All you can think about is the pain with water that cold. The pain, and how you wish that it would stop."

"Why are you telling me this?" Winter asked, though her voice had calmed. She no longer felt angry, and she no longer felt much of a desire to jump into the water below. All the adrenaline from minutes before had drained out of her, leaving her body exhausted.

"Because I'm not looking forward to jumping in there after you," the boy explained, leaning back from the railing. "Actually, I was kind of hoping that you'd decide not to jump and let me off the hook. But like I said— you jump, I jump."

Winter stared into his eyes, and knew that she couldn't let go of the railing. She didn't even know this boy, and yet here he was, making sure that she didn't jump off the great unsinkable ship. All the air seemed to leave her lungs and catch in her throat, leaving her at a loss for words.

"Come back to the other side," the boy whispered, reaching a steady hand out toward her. Winter stared at the pale fingers for a moment, then tentatively let go of the railing with one hand and took hold of his.

Grasping his hand tightly, Winter began to maneuver herself around to face the boy rather than the sea. She stood only inches from him, her red-rimmed eyes at level with his clear blue ones. "Phew," he whistled, a small smile taking over his lips. "I'm Jacin Clay," he said, his smile tugging unevenly upon his lips, pulling up higher on the left.

"Winter Hayle," she responded, somewhat breathlessly.

"Winter," Jacin's face twisted. "So I'm guessing you like the cold?"

Winter laughed weakly, but allowed Jacin to guide her up onto the railing. Her entire body shook as she raised her foot up onto the first bar of the rail, but Jacin held her steady, with one hand in hers and the other grasping her shoulder.

She placed her weight upon the foot resting on the rail, but it somehow caught on the flowing fabric of her dress. Winter slipped, and her body tumbled down toward the great expanse of ocean. She screamed, but didn't make it far as Jacin, who was still holding her hand kept her from plunging into the ocean below.

"I've got you!" he yelled, his face contorting with the effort of keeping her out of the depths of the sea. "I'm not letting you go, Winter. I will not let you fall."

Winter stared up at him, as tears streamed down her face and hair flew into her eyes. She whimpered and gasped, but nodded in acknowledgement of his words. For some reason, she trusted this man completely, despite not knowing him in the slightest. She knew he wouldn't let her fall.

"Now I need you to pull yourself up," Jacin grunted, his face straining with the effort of holding her up. "Come on, we'll pull together."

Yelling with the effort of dragging herself up, Winter somehow made it back to Jacin. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her onto the deck of the ship. She landed on top of him, hair and dress spilling all about her.

For a moment, she stared into his eyes— he stared back with a sort of intensity that Winter had never before in her life seen. She leaned forward, as if to kiss him, seized with the sudden urge to feel his slightly chapped lips upon her own. But before she got the chance, a horde of men charged onto the deck.

They seized Winter, and pulled her off of Jacin. She yelled in protest, but they paid no attention to her. Rather, they took in Jacin on the ground, with his coat and shoes cast off beside him and let out a roar of outrage. Immediately they took hold of him and cuffed his hands, screaming at him as they did so. Winter tried to yell above them, but it was no use— they would not hear her.

Suddenly an arm wrapped around Winter's shoulder, and a rough hand patted her hair. She felt her insides twist at the familiar scent of Aimery's cologne. He held her tightly against him, though it felt different that the way that Jacin had held her. Aimery's grasp felt possessive, while Jacin's had been more of a protective embrace. She longed to go back to just moments before, when her body had been pressed up against Jacin's.

"Aimery," Winter gasped, playing the part of a damsel and distress, as she normally did around her fiancé. "This man has done no wrong. He saved me. I-I was looking over the edge and I fell, but he saved me. Please Aimery, please don't let them hurt him."

Aimery's dark eyes looked into her own, but with pity for her rather than love. "Alright, my snowflake," he responded, giving her a terse smile.

He released Winter, as if discarding something that he wasn't much attached to and walked over to the ship police who were handcuffing Jacin. "Release this man," he said, his voice somewhat bored as he proclaimed the words. "My fiancé claims," Aimery tossed his dark head in Winter's direction, and Winter knew that his eyes would be rolled back in his head. "That this man saved her from falling over the edge. Release him at once."

Without a moment's hesitation, the men released Jacin, uncuffing him, and leaving, with only slight glances at him as they left. Jacin rubbed at his wrists, his face pinching slightly as he grinned at the retreating backs of the ship police.

"Thank you," Aimery grunted as soon as the ship police had left them. "I very much appreciate you saving my silly little fiancé from falling to her death." He reached out his hand toward Jacin, holding a bill within it.

Jacin's nose scrunched, and he shook his head at Aimery. "No thanks," he said, looking directly at Winter and ignoring Aimery completely. "It was my pleasure."

"I'm sure," Aimery snarled, his hand retreating back into his pocket. "Well, if you will not accept my money, then I hope that you will accept an invitation to dine with my party tomorrow evening. Perhaps then you can recount the story of your heroics."

"I accept your offer," Jacin said, his American accent sounding strong in contrast with Aimery's own British. He spoke to Aimery, but never once did he take his eyes off of Winter.

Aimery sniffed, then nodded at Jacin. He wrapped his arm around Winter, and pulled her away from Jacin. She tried to keep her gaze upon the boy who had saved her, but she only caught one last look at him before Aimery dragged her away. His arms were crossed over his chest, and his eyes quizzical, as if to ask "why are you with this man?"

And if Winter was being honest with herself, she no longer knew why.


	2. A Second Chance

It had been a miracle— Jacin’s ticket onto the Titanic. One minute he had been bumming around on the street earning dimes for painting simple portraits, and then the next he was on the largest ship in the world, finally heading home. He could still see the man’s face in his mind, and not just because he had sketched it. Jacin could remember the kind blue eyes, and dorky cap upon his head clearly.

“I can’t sail across the sea,” he said in his thick German accent, pulling a ticket from his pocket. It had been made of thick paper etched in gold. “I can’t leave my work behind. Just promise me that you’ll give this portrait to my daughter to remember me by.”

Jacin had taken the ticket and vowed to give the portrait to this man— Darnel’s daughter. Then he turned and booked it down the street, rushing onto the unsinkable ship before it could leave him in Southampton for another blasted second.

The man’s ticket had been third class, but the room allowed to Jacin was still something to behold, with curtains of deep velvet, cherry blossom wallpaper, and clean blankets upon the feather mattress bed. Even in Jacin’s youth he had never experienced such luxury.

Perhaps that was why Jacin chose to sleep out under the stars on the deck of the ship. With new, sturdy benches, his comfort already surpassed that which he felt every night in England, as he slept wherever he fell that night.

But as he had stared up at the stars, pondering the galaxy and the vast expanse of space, a girl had run past him and consequently changed his life forever.

She wasn’t the type of girl that Jacin typically went after— her dress and manner far too sophisticated for him. But something about the way she stared at him— so defiant despite her evident fear— made her impossible for him to forget.

Even now, a day after Jacin had talked that girl— Winter— down from the edge of the boat, he couldn’t get her out of his mind. His fingers itched to paint her: dark, unruly hair, chocolate skin, deep eyes, all set against a sunshine yellow dress. Even the three scars tracing from the corner of her right eye and down her cheek enhanced her beauty— like three incessant tears. The intensity of her beauty begged for him to paint her with his most vibrant hues, leaving out no details.

But he had no paint with him on the ship— he hadn’t been able to afford anything as expensive as paint in months. So he had resorted to charcoal, allowing for the dust to stain a piece of parchment with the outline of Winter against the night.

Jacin drew his thoughts away from Winter, closing his eyes briefly and reopening them to stare at himself in a bathroom mirror. It was clean— and it amazed Jacin to see his own reflection with such clarity. He turned on the sink faucet and cupped his hands beneath the steady flow. Jacin scrubbed at his face with the water, and wetted his hair in a less messy manner. He would never be completely clean, but at least his face was no longer caked in dirt.

Striding toward the first class dining hall, Jacin held himself with a noble sort of dignity. He wouldn’t let any rich old geezer hold him back and tell him that he wasn’t enough. Jacin had left that all behind back in England. Now he was returning home to his father to begin a new life. This ticket was his second chance to live and fix his life— Jacin wouldn’t squander it by being afraid.

“Sugar,” a woman grabbed Jacin’s arm, pulling him to a halting stop just before the entrance of the dining hall. Jacin whirled around, feeling his heart beat like that of a tromping horse. The woman who seized him was middle aged, and dressed in a gaudy red dress; but she was still somewhat beautiful despite this, with thick dark hair, tilted chocolate eyes highlighted in gold, and a mischievous grin. He put on his meanest face, prepared to tell this overdone woman to back off and mind her own business.

“Oh, there’s no need for that, apple pie,” the woman clucked, her southern drawl as thick as honey. “I was only just stoppin’ you in the hall because I recognized you. You’s that boy that done saved my sister’s stepdaughter Winter, am I right?”

“You’re not wrong,” Jacin growled through clenched teeth. He hated people from the south with their funky way of speaking and awful pet names.

“Aw, good,” the woman linked her silk-clad arm through his and turned him around. “You’s supposed to be having dinner with my party tonight then, right?”

“I guess so,” Jacin sighed, rolling his eyes so hard that his head began to throb. “That’s why I think I best be off to the dining-”

“No you can’t go on in there lookin’ like a damn hooligan,” the woman gasped, putting a gloved hand to her chest and rolling her head back in mock-surprise. “Oh no, honey, we’s gonna dress you up real nice so don’t you worry.”

“I really don’t think that’s necessary-” Jacin tried to drag his arm away from the woman, but she held fast.

“Oh hush, sugarplum. You ain’t gonna win no fight up against me,” she laughed, tapping his arm not all that gently with her silk gloved hands. “Don’t you worry now, pumpkin, we’re gonna dress you up real nice and that’s that. My son-in-law is about your height. You can borrow one of his tuxes.”

Jacin tried to come up with any form of excuse for a means of escape, but this woman was relentless. He gave up after only a short while, allowing for this lady to drag him away to her quarters.

When they arrived at her suite, Jacin felt his heart skip a beat at the intense beauty of the scape— the bright draperies and overstuffed furniture all around. Paintings sat upon the walls in splendid detail, depicting worlds far far away— lands of dreams and hope and all things wonderful. The floor was carpeted with a fine white shag that felt like a pillow beneath his boot-clad feet. There was even a chandelier, shining down brightly upon a deep red and gold rug and cream couches.

A man sat upon one of the fine couches reading a novel that Jacin had never heard of before— or perhaps he had heard of it, but simply couldn’t make out what language it was in. The man looked up as the pair walked in, pulling off a pair of wire-framed glasses from his nose and staring quizzically at the woman.

“Who is this?” He asked, not impolitely— rather, he appeared to be trying not to laugh at the odd spectacle: Jacin, dirty and dressed in near rags on the arm of this miraculously dressed noble woman.

“This is that young lad that done saved little Winnie last night from falling off the ship,” the woman released Jacin and walked into another room, shouting to compensate for the distance. “That darn girl— I don’t know how she managed to stay alive all those years without my Selene by her side. That girl is gonna get herself into trouble someday.”

The man turned to Jacin, his face holding only sympathy. Jacin felt a ball of anxiety release from within his chest. This man hadn’t spoken a word to Jacin, yet somehow his presence shone out like a force of calm.

“What’s your name, lad?” The man asked, his voice accented like that of an Englishman rather than the thick drawl of the American woman.

“Jacin,” Jacin said, holding his head high. “Jacin Clay.”

“Well it’s good to meet you, Mr. Clay,” the man smiled, standing from his seat and reaching a hand out toward Jacin. Jacin clasped his hand tightly and they shook. “I am Rikan Prince. My son is married to Miss Channary Blackburn's daughter Selene.”

The woman— Channary— marched back into the room at just that moment, a pressed, dark suit draped over her arm. “Quite a scandal, their marriage was,” Channary beamed despite the meaning of her words. “Sent her off to England to spend the summer with her aunt and cousin after poor Evret's death. Then she done run off with Mr. Kaito Prince and completely ignore her pre-arranged engagement to Mr. Carswell Thorne back home.”

Jacin didn’t know how to answer this statement, so he didn’t. However, Rikan appeared to find the whole thing hilarious, letting out a chuckle and sitting back down on the couch with a soft _whump_.

“You say that as if it’s a bad thing, Miss Channary,” Rikan teased, putting his glasses back upon his nose and reopening his book. “I thought you liked my Kai.”

“Well of course I like Mr. Kaito. He’s a lot darn better than that womanizer Carswell Thorne, but his father just about wants my head after letting my daughter shame him in such a way,” Channary huffed, handing the tux over to Jacin. “Quite frankly, I’m frightened to go back to America and face Kingsley Thorne’s wrath, but no matter.” She raised her hands up and rolled her eyes. “What’s done is done, and my dear Selene is married to one of the finest young men.”

“Are you raging about our elopement _again_?” Another door pushed open, and out stepped a man about the same age as Jacin. His eyes sparkled with mischief and a little bit of mirth as he tried to hold back a valiant grin. He was holding the hand of a girl behind him who looked incredibly like Channary, with long dark hair and lovely chocolate eyes.

“Mother,” the girl rolled her eyes and blew a puff of air up at her bangs, fluffing them out of her face. Her accent, though still American, didn’t hold that southern slurpy quality like Channary’s did, but rather the more harsh and defined accent that Jacin had grown up hearing. “I thought you were over this by now. You like Kai, remember?”

“Well of course I like Kaito,” Channary rolled her eyes in much the same way as he daughter, putting a hand on her hip as she said so. “He’s just about the most handsome young man I’ve ever done seen,” she quipped, throwing a wink in Kai’s direction. “But I had to explain to this young man the scandal that the two of you youngins caused and how my poor old heart is filled with fear at the very idea of seeing Mr. Kingsley Thorne again with the pair of you in tow. I wouldn't be surprised if Carswell done fights Kaito to the death for your love and honor.”

Selene let out a bark of laughter at that, and Kai shot her a glare— though it was more moony than forewarning. She wrapped her arms around Kai’s middle and he laid his head atop hers, despite her elegant updo. “Ma, he’s not gonna care that the two of us aren’t getting hitched,” Selene said, her voice lilting slightly on the last word. “Carswell and I didn’t want to get married in the first place. We're best friends, not lovers. We can barely go ten minutes without screaming at one another.”

"And if Carswell Thorne wants to have a fight to the death," Kai grinned, pressing a kiss against Selene's forehead. "Then we can fight to the death. No one can tear us apart."

“So be it,” Channary sniffed, dabbing gently at her eye. Jacin noticed that while Channary’s face was made up with a multitude of colors and highlights, Selene’s face was decorated with almost nothing. Her dress and hair too were much simpler than her mother’s, as if she held no care in the world as to what she looked like. She didn’t really need to try— she was already one of the most beautiful women that Jacin had ever seen. But not the most beautiful.

“Well you go get changed now, Mr. Jacin Clay,” Channary shoved Jacin off into another room that Jacin could only assume was her own, what with the mess of clothes spread throughout the room. “I hope you don’t mind, Kaito— I lent one of your suits to Mr. Jacin Clay, here.” The door shut behind Jacin before he could hear Kai’s reply, but from the tone of his voice Jacin could tell that he wasn’t the slightest bit mad about it.

Jacin pulled off his clothes and slid into the dark polyester tuxedo. The fabric felt scratchy against his skin after weeks of wearing his worn cotton trousers and shirt. Luckily, the tuxedo fit him with near perfection, rising up only about an inch or two at the ankles. He examined his image in a decorative gold mirror against the wall, pulling at the fabric and messing with his hair. He attempted to get the icy blond locks to go back and away from his face, but to no avail.

For a moment, Jacin stared at his reflection: pale skin and hair, electric blue eyes, a soft smattering of freckles across his nose that was barely visible unless one looked close enough. He hardly recognized himself, dressed in such finery. _What was he doing?_ He didn’t fit in with this crowd of people. Why was he going to a dinner where he was sure to be insulted by a mob of snobby rich people all night? He couldn't comprehend his own thoughts.

But for some reason, Winter— stars, he didn’t even know her last name— fascinated him. For the first time in his life, he actually wanted to get to know someone else— to be around them. He felt an inward pull toward the girl.

He stepped out of the room, pushing his hair back from his face once again. For the most part, no one in the room seemed to care about his transformation into formal wear— that is, everyone aside from Channary.

“Oh, child you look like a vanilla sundae on a hot summer’s day,” she piped, extending a hand out to pull on the neck of the tux. “You look just fine now. You can present yourself to my damned sister and her choice in suitor in this finery. You’ll show them.”

Jacin wondered at her words, but asked no questions. He wasn’t a particularly curious guy— if things didn’t pertain to him, there was next to no interest on his part.

“We’ll walk him down to the dining hall, mother,” Selene said, smiling at Jacin as she tugged on Kai’s hand, though the grin didn't hold much kindness. “You go and change into whatever monstrosity you’re gonna don tonight and meet us there.”

Channary muttered something incoherently, but nodded at the same time. Rikan didn’t even look up from his book as the group walked out of the room with Selene and Kai leading Jacin into the empty hallway.

“I’m terribly sorry about my mother,” Selene said as soon as they were inside the hall. “She’ll do just about anything to spite my aunt, and it doesn’t help that she also finds immense joy in making people over. But that’s no reason— oh well.”

“It’s just fine,” Jacin waved his hand then stuffed it inside his pocket. He felt uncomfortable walking with two people who were clearly above him class-wise with their fancy clothes and regal manner. It didn’t help that he was wearing Kai’s clothes as well.

“So you’re the man that saved Winter?” Kai asked, eyes bright and inquisitive.

“Yeah,” Jacin responded, eyes on his feet.

“What in the world was she doing out on that deck?” Selene inquired, tilting her head slightly to the right as she stared at Jacin.

“I don’t know.”

Selene snorted, causing Jacin to look up at her. This woman, who had clearly been brought up in high society had just snorted— Jacin could hardly fathom such a phenomenon.

“What?” Jacin snapped, stopping dead in his tracks to look at these two ridiculous people.

“You’re an excellent liar,” Selene grinned, tapping right beside her left eye. “But not one soul in the world can fool me. I know that you know, Mr. Clay, but I won’t press you.” She took a step toward him, eyes flitting between his own. “I know that you saved my cousin from a terrible fate, but I’m not so sure your intentions are so pure. So don’t you dare try a thing against my dear sweet cousin.”

For a second, the two glared at one another, their eyes squinched and bitter. Then Kai coughed, breaking the staredown and bringing a smile back upon Selene’s face. “Come on, Cinder,” Kai wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “You haven’t even given the man a chance.”

“I am giving him a chance,” Selene responded. “A chance to be a good man and understand that I could kill him within an instant.”

“I thought your name was Selene,” Jacin ignored her retort, focusing instead upon her husband’s nickname for her.

“That is indeed my given name, and the name by which my dear mother calls me,” Selene rolled her eyes with gusto. “But Cinder is what everyone else calls me.”

Jacin glared at her, thoroughly unimpressed. “There’s a good ol' story behind it, but I don’t much feel like explaining it to _you_ right now.”

“Whatever you please, queeny,” Jacin shot back. He was beginning to regret accepting Aimery’s invitation to dinner. He already could hardly stand both Winter’s aunt and cousin with Channary's brazen personality or Cinder's overprotective one. Of course, both the Prince men had been nothing but decent so far, but Jacin despised people who were overtly wealthy.

Cinder glared, and looked as if she were about to reply when Kai shot her a meaningful glance. She gave him the same withering stare, but it lasted only a moment before her features melted into that same dopey look that all people in love carry.

“So Jacin,” Kai turned his attention back to Jacin with a genuine smile upon his face. “Where are you from?”

“Wisconsin,” Jacin stated plainly, making it clear that he wasn’t looking to elaborate.

“Huh,” Kai sighed. “I’ve never been to Wisconsin. Granted, I’ve traveled to the United States only a few times before, and always stayed in the New England area.”

“You’re not missing much,” Cinder and Jacin said at the same time. Kai laughed as the pair glared at one another.

“Well then,” Kai grinned. “At least the two of you share one common opinion.”

They reached the dining hall at that moment, and Jacin felt all of his contempt disappear the second his eyes landed upon Winter. She sat in a heavy wooden chair, her body positioned a slight ways away from Aimery. She was dressed in a soft pink gown stitched tiny white cranes flying across the fabric. Her hair was tied in a loose knot at the base of her neck with curls falling all about her face. She smiled as her cousin approached and she spread her arms out wide as if to hug Cinder. Without even realizing it, a smile spread across Jacin’s face, melting his features into a joyful configuration.

Kai chuckled beside Jacin, drawing his attention away from Winter. He patted Jacin upon the back as Cinder wrapped her arms tight around her cousin. “Don’t mind Cinder. She’s a bit standoffish when you first meet her— er, especially at the moment. She’ll warm up to you though, don’t you fret.”

Jacin grunted in acknowledgement of his words— he didn’t much care whether or not Kai’s wife took to him; it’s not like it mattered in the slightest.

“Just know,” Kai whispered, moving to stand closer to Jacin. “That’ we’re on your side.” He gave Jacin a wink, then ran off to join his wife in greeting Winter.

Jacin stared at the man’s back, unsure if he had heard him correctly. On his side? What the hell was that supposed to mean? Did this rich guy—that Jacin should have never met—somehow know that Jacin had fallen in love with Winter? How could he?

He didn’t have time to ponder these questions however, as Winter turned her dark eyes and vibrant smile upon him, beckoning Jacin over to her party. So he forgot his questions and left to join the group seated in first class, wondering how on earth he had only been sleeping on the English streets just two nights before.


	3. Artificialities

Winter stared at her fork, wondering what it would feel like to shove the prongs through her eye— it couldn’t be more painful than the conversation at the party’s dinner table. If the night before, with only her step-mother and Aimery had been wretched, it was made a thousand times worse by the presence of civil persons.

Aimery had this problem, Winter noticed, that he always needed to be the driving force in any conversation. Of course, if he were someone interesting like just about any other person at the table, it wouldn’t have been so dreadfully boring; but of course he had to be a bondsman— the most terribly boring kind of man in Winter’s opinion.

But somehow tonight was even worse, as if the presence of Jacin were increasing Aimery’s need to prove himself a “man.” He droned on and on about his travels which were simply unimpressive as all he did was stay in fancy hotels and never venture out into the world.

This was one of the many reasons why Winter so despised her fiancé; he had the chance to see the world— to look upon all the wonders that it held— but he held no care to it. The world was business to him, and not the soft sway of autumn leaves or the snowy crests of mountains as it was to Winter. He couldn’t see beauty unless it was upon the face of one who breathed and had breasts— he couldn’t see past the world of artificialities.

A hand grabbed hold of Winter’s, and it was only in that moment that she realized that she had been digging her nails into her palms. She looked over at her dear cousin who gave her that knowing glare that said _I hate him just as much as you do._ Winter rolled her eyes and gave Cinder’s hand a squeeze before letting go.

She picked up her utensils once more, cutting into her creamy sauce-covered green beans, gently nudging her chicken to the edge of her plate as she did so. One would think that Aimery would pick up on her vegetarianism after a time, but he always ordered her something with meat.

“...Of course we took all the man’s assets; he simply couldn’t pay the price we’d agreed upon. Such a simple man— oh the simple and the poor how they always beg for more time, more money. Just more more more!” Aimery threw his hands up for emphasis, then slammed then down upon the table with violent gusto. The silverware shook and his wine glass toppled over, spilling dark, bloody liquid upon the crisp white table linen.

Servers immediately rushed over and began to clean up Aimery's mess. He did not once apologize for the trouble as the silent servants toweled off the stain and filled a new glass for Aimery.

Levana was the only one who laughed at his statement, though the pitch and cadence of it made up for all the rest of them with its astonishingly loud value. She somehow managed to glare at Winter from across the table, urging her with her eyes to _laugh_. Winter didn’t laugh.

Kai leaned his head forward from Cinder’s other side so he could stare at Aimery with those brilliant copper eyes. Winter had known Kai from the time they were both schoolchildren, and had always admired those soul-piercing eyes. He had that kind of stare that one couldn’t look away from.

When Cinder had first admitted to being in love with Kai, Winter had asked if it was because of his eyes. Cinder had shook her head and laughed claiming that “one can’t fall in love due to the intensity of another’s eyes.” Though after they had grown a little bit tipsy from drinking half a bottle of Levana’s expensive vintage wine, Kai’s eyes had been the only thing that Cinder could talk about, along with the soft curve of his lips and the way his hair felt like silky feathers.

“But why must we take so carelessly from the poor?” Kai asked, taking a sip of his own wine. “Why not show mercy upon those less fortunate than ourselves— especially when you are a man so wealthy.”

Aimery sneered from the other end of the table, his dark eyes predatorial as they searched Kai’s kind face. “Because the world is a staircase, and one cannot climb if he pulls others up to stand alongside himself. Something that a silly politician like yourself should know all too well.”

Kai smiled, though his eyes held that cunning quality of a snake. He knew when to argue a point and when not too— and Aimery was that sort who never listened, no matter how much sense you yelled into his small ears.

Winter turned her attention from Kai and looked, for the first time, at the one sitting across from her. Jacin was sandwiched between Rikan and Channary— a move that Winter was grateful for more because of the gentle way in which Rikan subtly showed Jacin which utensils to hold in his hands at a time and the European way of eating. Channary was also a blessing, not because of her kindness but because of her hate for her sister. Whenever someone attacked Jacin, she flew to the rescue, turning to her sister on her other side with a cutting remark of some unfortunate childhood incident between her and the other Blackburn, silencing any insults on Jacin’s behalf.

A group of servers came and collected all the plates, whether they were blank like Jacin’s or almost untouched like Cinder’s. Winter glanced at her cousin, but found Cinder to be in a hushed conversation with Kai. She watched as her lips tickled his ear and he grazed his fingers gently along the back of her hand and couldn’t help but smile at the sight. That was the kind of love she wanted: sweet and unconditional and true. It was wondrous to see sarcastic Cinder turn into a puddle of ecstasy under Kai’s influence, and to see his cool collected demeanor fly out the window the second Cinder appeared, turning him into a bumbling mess.

Plates filled with the richest chocolate cake appeared like magic before the table’s inhabitants, delighting their eyes with its beautiful iced flowers and sparking life into the pools of their mouths as their taste buds danced in anticipation.

Winter didn’t hesitate for a moment before she buried her fork in the mess of cake— she had always adored the fluffy, sweeter cousin of bread. She could have eaten it every single day of her life and been completely content.

She swirled the frosting over the top of her tongue, ignoring Aimery’s continuation of his chosen topic. Winter closed her eyes and imagined that she was a girl of ice just as Cinder was a girl of fire, and that a prince would come and melt her frozen heart. She sucked on the remaining bits of frosting that covered her teeth and dreamed of that world in which she was nothing but a frozen girl.

Her eyes opened abruptly, and she saw the ice of her vision— bright blue and mesmerizing. Then Jacin’s eyes turned away from her, his jaw clenching. She felt her heart give a little flutter at catching him stare at her.

“Mr. Jacin,” Winter said, trying to add that edge of honey to her voice that she so often admired in her aunt, though this only caused her words to slur together in a way that made her sound way more tipsy than she actually was. She reverted back to her normal way of speech. “Are you going to finish that piece of cake?”

Jacin stared at her, his brow drawn in just slightly. He examined her face then let his eyes fall down to her daintily pointed hand that was directed at his half-eaten cake.

“No,” he said, eyes quizzical as Winter grinned and stole his plate away. From beside her Aimery stared with disgust, and from the other end of the table Levana glared with contempt. But Winter paid no attention to either party as she scooped a spoonful of cake into her mouth and smiled jovially at Jacin. It was only then that he smiled back— that hesitant twist of his lips that he had given only to her the night before.

She felt her heart melt like chocolate on the stove as his stony features transformed into that small smile. He looked young when he held that look— like the boy that he was, barely into his twenties.

“Mr. Clay,” Aimery smirked at Jacin. He wasn’t directly across the table from Jacin—Winter was—but he sat only to her right. “What kind of occupation have you taken up?”

“I’m an artist,” Jacin responded, the look of cool confidence returning to his features as he stared Aimery down. “I do portraits and scenery and just about anything that holds a speck of beauty.”

Winter loved listening to Jacin’s voice— it was different than any other he had ever heard. It was truly American, but not in the cruel way that Levana’s was, or the honey-sweet way or Channary’s, or even the slight lilt that Cinder’s voice held. His voice was the calm of an evening stream, even in its cadence, and clear in practice. It was the even lettering of a primary school teacher rather than the messy scrawl of the children surrounding.

“An artist!” Aimery barked out a laugh, and Levana followed. “What a silly choice in profession. Oh dear, you must live on the streets with a career like that.”

“I have indeed slept many nights under the stars,” Jacin said, leveling his gaze first at Aimery then at every other person at the table, as if daring them to laugh at him. No one else did. “I find that it makes me appreciate the beauty of the world with greater depth and increases my eye for the magnificent. One cannot see if they are not looking.”

“Ah, very philosophical, are you?” Aimery asked, though the question came out as more of a bitter statement than anything else. Aimery, who had seen the world but never once stopped to appreciate the splendor surrounding him. He could _never_ understand.

Silence sat around the table like a ninth companion, occupying the empty head of the table.

Aimery and Jacin glared at one another, one with eyes as black as night and the other with eyes the color of a clear sky. It was electric in its intensity.

Kai stretched an arm out in an exaggerated fake yawn. Cinder rolled her eyes at him but said nothing as he wrapped the outstretched arm around her shoulders. “Oh dear,” Kai proclaimed, glancing at his watchless wrist as if to check the time. The hand with his real watch was rubbing Cinder’s arm with a gentle caress. “The time of the day is getting dreadfully late. I think it’s time we all best be off to bed.”

“I most certainly agree,” Rikan said, nodding his head solemnly at his son from the opposite end of the table. “This day has worn me thin. I believe it to be the time when only the stars should be awake.”

Aimery muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like “old men,” but Winter did not ask him to speak louder.

“Go off to bed then,” Aimery quipped, making a shooing motion at the rest of them. “I, personally, would like to go and have a brandy.”

And with that, he stood from the table, buttoning his suit with the elegant motion of one with money as he stood. Winter felt her heart flutter with elation as he left her. Her mood only increased when Levana followed him, sock-sucker that she was.

The party dispersed, as Channary grabbed Rikan’s arm and he led her like a gentleman out of the dining hall. The rest of them stood and walked slowly from the room, Kai with his arm wrapped around Cinder’s shoulders and her arm around his waist, and Winter and Jacin awkwardly side by side.

It was only once they got away from the hustle and bustle of the dining hall that Kai turned to the lot of them, his fake exhausted expression gone from his face and replaced by one of mischief. Winter stared at him, trying to make out what exactly that look meant.

“Now that it’s just the four of us,” Kai stated, his cheek dimpling, “I thought that perhaps we could have a get-together of our own. Something less… tainted.”

Cinder let out a dry laugh and leaned her head against Kai’s shoulder. “We have some friends aboard the ship in third class, and there’s a party going on down there,” Cinder added, her silky voice contrasting Kai’s concise tone.

“You have friends?” Winter asked Cinder, astonished at the same moment that Jacin asked “In third class?”

Kai grinned and Cinder glared. They balanced each other out in that way, with Cinder being fire, and Kai being cool water. He was always the diplomat, and Cinder always the defender.

“Trust me,” Kai said, leading them to a staircase that Winter hadn’t noticed before. “It will be fun.”

Winter and Jacin exchanged a look— one of those silent kinds that usually only came after knowing a person for a very long time. It was the kind of look that only best friends or lovers shared. Winter felt her cheeks heat up for thinking of Jacin as either; she barely knew the guy.

Jacin tore his gaze away from Winter and brought a hand up to loosen his bowtie from around his neck. Winter watched his elegant fingers twirl with the movement, as if they were tiny dancers in performance.

Winter wanted for one night to pretend that she was free of Aimery—that he had no control over her, and that she was a bird in the sky. She wanted to dance into the night, and stare into eyes that were the same color of freedom, rather than the darkness of night. Just for a few hours, she wished to pretend that she could be romantic, and dance with a handsome man who didn't _own_ her.

“Okay,” Winter smiled, though the answer was more for herself than anyone else. Then she reached out her hand to Jacin, a devilish grin overcoming her features as he stared at her fingers, hesitant. Then he grabbed hold of them, his hand warm in hers. “Let’s go.”


	4. A Fairytale That Could Never Be

The room— or really, hall— was packed to the brim with people in constant motion. Bright flashes of color danced about before Jacin, capturing his artist’s eye with all the hues and shadows. It was a scene that screamed to be scratched down upon paper with the crystal chandeliers and simplistically fancy people who wore their best, even if it was the worst from the wealthy’s standpoint.

Jacin glanced down from the scene to look at his hand, still grasped tightly by Winter’s fingers. They were somewhat clammy, either from nerves or the heat of the room Jacin wasn’t entirely sure. But it still felt nice— her gentle touch.

He wasn’t sure what had driven Winter to grasp his hand and why he’d let her; she was a woman engaged to a man far more powerful than he, but Jacin couldn’t seem to draw himself away from her. Even as Aimery had thrown insults at him, and Levana had laughed, Jacin had hardly noticed the torment because _there she was_.

She held that sort of beauty that tortured an artist’s eye. She was all dark curly hair and ebony skin and big, brown eyes flecked with bits of silver if one got close enough to look. Then there were the three tear-like scars that traced down her cheek and made one want to do nothing more than stare at her for the entirety of the day. But it was more than her physical appearance that made her beautiful— it was also in the way she laughed and spoke softly with the ones she loved. It was the soft curve of her mouth as she had stolen his cake away from him, and the way she closed her eyes as if in a dream as she tasted the rich chocolate.

Jacin turned his gaze upon Winter’s face and found her studying him. Her eyes held a look that he couldn’t understand— something so wanting and agonizing. It was an emotion he knew, though not on the same torturous level that she displayed.

Kai and Cinder led them into the chaos surrounding them, hand-in-hand and laughing as they stumbled amongst the crushing mass of bodies. Winter quirked an eyebrow at Jacin; he grinned and pulled her along.

Music rang in through the form of trilling horns, the strings of bass and guitar, and drums beating rapidly, much akin to a heartbeat. A voice sang over all the instruments, depicting a melody filled with passion and describing a most painful love affair. It was lustful enough to make one’s grandmother blush.

Bodies tossed every which way as dance moves grew more and more fastidious and complex. There were women being twirled, allowing their multi-color skirts to fly in tones not of jewels like the rich, but of outrageously bright shades of orange and yellow and magenta. The men surrounding weren’t so colorful, but they were magnificent despite this in their best shirts and slacks with suspenders and unbuttoned collars to tie everything in.

They wandered to the edge of the room where a colossal man stood eating a sandwich whilst a short redhead sipped from a frothy cup. They were an odd pair, with him so tall and dark with startling green eyes, while she was all curly fire for hair, soft brown eyes and a curvy figure.

The red-haired girl exclaimed upon seeing them and rushed to wrap her arms around Kai, spilling a dribble of her drink down the back of his suit, though Kai did not seem to notice or care. Both excitedly yelled as they broke apart and the girl pulled Cinder into a tight hug. The large man solemnly shook Kai’s hand, a slight smile upon his features as if he wasn’t sure what the proper protocol was.

“It’s so good to see you, Scar!” Cinder yelled over the hustle and bustle surrounding them. “I feel as if it’s been ages. Have we really not seen one another since the wedding?”

“I’m afraid so,” the girl yelled back, her voice surprising Jacin with it’s french whine. “But perhaps we shall all see more of one another once we are all in the states.”

“Scarlet,” Kai gently touched the girl’s elbow, turning her so her gaze fell upon Jacin and Winter. “I’d like for you to meet Cinder’s dear cousin Winter Hayle and our new friend Jacin Clay.”

Scarlet’s eyes turned impish as she took them in, grinning chaotically in their direction. It was only then that Jacin realized that she was most definitely spectacularly drunk.

“Oh what a pleasure to meet the both of you,” Scarlet shrieked, pulling Winter into a quick hug and shaking Jacin’s hand in both of hers— her frothy cup somehow now clutched in her companion's large hands. “I’m Scarlet Benoit, and this is my boyfriend Ze’ev Kesley, though we all call him Wolf.”

Ze’ev— er, Wolf— grinned at the lot of them as if he finally understood what the social procedures for the situation were. He had especially long canines that looked almost like fangs. Jacin understood the nickname.

“We’ve just been in France visiting my grandmère,” Scarlet waved her hands at her face dramatically, fanning herself from the heat of the room. Her dark red dress had a V-neck, and hugged her curves generously. She was really quite pretty in her near-violent all-red appearance. “But when she finally passed,” Scarlet hiccupped, “we decided we might as well come and join the fun. Thank you for the flowers, by the way,” Scarlet turned her attention back to Kai and Cinder. ”They were most lovely— Grandmère’s favorites.”

“I’m still so terribly sorry we missed the funeral,” Kai said. His arm was wrapped around Cinder and her arms were wrapped around his waist, yet he somehow managed to pull her closer to him. “We both wanted to come.”

Scarlet waved her hand through the air, the action long and sloppy due to her lack of sobriety. “Ah, don’t you worry about it,” she slurred her words. “It was a small affair— just as Grandmère would have wanted it.”

“How long are the pair of you going to be staying in the states?” Wolf asked, his voice quiet despite his large size. Jacin had to incline his head to hear the small words.

“Oh well, we’re not entirely sure yet,” Cinder grimaced. “I have to deal with the whole elopement thing and my broken engagement with Carswell.”

“He’s not mad about that, is he?” Scarlet gasped, getting rather close to Cinder’s face.

“No, no,” Cinder rolled her eyes. “He couldn’t care less; it’s his father who’s furious.”

“Oh, I see,” Scarlet hummed, then pointed a finger at Kai. “So now you have to fight to the death for dear Selene’s honor now do ya?”

Kai grinned, nodding his head adamantly. “Yes, and I reckon it will be a pistol fight— you know, those bloody Americans.”

“I bet it will be,” Scarlet tossed Kai a wink, then stumbled backwards. Within an instant, Wolf’s hands were on her shoulders and he was smiling sheepishly at the rest of them. He looked somewhat apologetic, though not embarrassed on either his or Scarlet’s behalf.

“It’s been a long night,” Wolf muttered, though it wasn’t the sort of muttering that felt bad— it was simply quiet. “I think we best turn ourselves in for the night.”

There was a lot more hugging and clapping of shoulders in the following moments as the two couples said their farewells for the evening. Scarlet threw her arms around both Winter and Jacin as she stumbled out of the room, and while Winter reciprocated politely Jacin just stood there mutely like a dead fish.

“Scarlet isn’t typically so drunk,” Cinder said, her words directed at her cousin. “But her grandmother was all the family she had, and she hasn’t been dealing with her death all too well.”

Both Jacin and Winter nodded in unison, then turned their eyes upon one another with identical impish grins at their mirrored gestures. Then Winter’s nose crinkled and she turned her gaze away. Jacin caught Kai staring at him with a sort of devilish twinkle within his eyes and felt his cheeks begin to heat.

“Well,” Kai cleared his throat, extricating himself from Cinder to take her hands. “One must not stand idly while a dance is in procession.”

Cinder glared at him, but allowed him to pull her close to him, with one hand at her waist and the other clasping her own. “You know how terrible a dancer I am,” Cinder growled, looking as if she were about to bite Kai. He merely chuckled and dipped her low, allowing for her baby blue dress to brush the floor. Their steps were much slower than the roar of the surrounding music— as if they were dancing to a completely different song entirely.

“Oh believe me,” he grinned, pulling her back up and kissing her slowly upon the lips. “I know.”

Jacin suddenly felt as if he had intruded upon an intimate moment despite the fact that the two lovebirds had decided to have their intimate moment in front of him. Winter seemed to reach the same conclusion at the same time; she reached for Jacin’s hand and pulled him away from the sickening couple.

“I’m sorry about them,” Winter grinned, scrunching her nose as she said the words. “They go from normal to disgusting in the time it takes to tie one’s shoelaces. Believe it or not, Cinder actually used to be quite sensible before she and Kai got together. Actually, they both were.”

Jacin smiled at her, hearing her words but also not hearing them. He liked to listen to the sound of her voice— her clipped British vowels and melodic tone. It was almost as if she were singing rather than speaking.

“So,” Winter scuffed her dainty shoe against the marble floor. “Shall we dance?”

“What?”

“I mean,” Winter amended, closing one eye as if she could only stand to look at him with half the force of her vision. “We don’t have to— we can leave. Oh stars, we’ve probably kept you out too late. How terribly rude I’ve been. Must you now get back to your, erm… bench?”

Somehow he found his grin growing broader as she stumbled upon her words. Never before in his life had he smiled so much in one evening. But there was just something about _her_.

Jacin pulled the hand that was already clasped within Winter’s up into the air, then placed his other upon her waist. He raised an eyebrow as if to ask her permission, only for Winter to touch her hand to Jacin’s shoulder.

"For the record, I do actually have a room on this ship," Jacin smirked.

Winter rolled her eyes, though her nose yet again did that small twitch it always seemed to do whenever she was embarrassed. Jacin couldn't help but adore the way she scrunched her nose.

"I know that," the hissed, yanking his arm—which had no more affect on him than causing him to laugh.

Then they danced— that kind of fast-paced nonsense dance that only people who truly didn’t know how to dance could perform. It was erratic and full of spinning and twisting and bundles of laughter. Their feet moved to the sound of the drum, but their hearts beat in sync with one another as they danced. They were complete chaos compared to Cinder and Kai’s continual slow and lazy dancing, and it was pure magic.

They grasped one another's hands and spun around until they both grew dizzy enough that they had to hold on to one another to stay upright. They laughed until they cried, allowing for the excitement of the night to live within them and light their very souls on fire.

"I don't ever want to leave this place," Winter whispered into Jacin's ear after another bout of furious spinning. Her head rested on his shoulder, though they still allowed their feet to stay in a quick motion.

"Then don't," Jacin whispered back, his breath blowing a soft lock of Winter's hair from her face.

So they danced into the night, with Winter’s pink dress flying about like the wings of the birds stitched into the fabric. They were all bright happiness and a life that they could never live. But in that moment, neither of them cared. So they spun and they laughed and they held hands, like a fairytale that could never come to be.


	5. Dreamland

Dreamy whispers of light sparkled down upon Winter’s face, lulling her out of that haven called sleep and back into the world of the living. In her mind's eye she was dancing about like a flame flickering in the dark, her hand in the hand of a man that she loved as she spun about in a flurry of pink and silver birds.

But when her lashes fluttered away from her cheeks, she was in her room, laying under white covers, all alone. There was a crystal chandelier above her head, and fine wallpaper and paintings upon the wall, but that did nothing to console the aching that lived within her. She was a girl who had no one to love her— she was a girl who would forever remain alone.

The night before felt like a dream— the kind she wished to never wake from. It felt like a whole other world, yet she had been there, dancing through the night. Never before had she danced so long and strangely, but those stolen moments with Jacin were more romantic than any other she had ever experienced before. Because no matter what jewels or fancy dresses Aimery bought her, or the compliments he applied to her beauty, he could never replicate the emotions that Jacin possessed. No amount of money could give Aimery the ability to _feel_.

Winter shut her eyes once more, allowing herself to forget Aimery for a moment and guiltily revel in the idea of _Jacin_. From the time that Winter had been a young girl, she’d fantasized about the idea of love at first sight. Her father had always claimed that he’d fallen for Winter’s mother the moment their eyes met, and Winter had wanted that— the sort of love that was instant and unforgettable.

With Aimery, there had been no chance of that. She hadn’t loved him first glance, or second glance, or any of the glances that had taken place after years of knowing one another. Not one inch of Winter Hayle loved Aimery Park, and she knew that would never change.

But Jacin was a different story. She wouldn’t say that she had fallen in love with him from the moment she first saw him— she’d been preparing to jump down into an endless sea, so it was understandable— but there was something about him that called to her. She couldn’t tell if she was in love with him, for never before had she fallen in love; all she knew was that her heart did not fear him.

A knock sounded upon Winter’s door, and she braced herself for her stepmother to barge in, demanding where she had been the night before.

Not a moment later, Levana Blackburn— for Winter could not think of her as Levana Hayle— charged into the room, her dark auburn hair draped over one shoulder. It was amazing how much hair dye could change the looks of a person; well, that and an abundance of cosmetics. Winter had seen photographs of her stepmother from long ago, and knew that once she had looked like her sister, and therefore her niece, but now her face resembled theirs about as much as Winter’s did. Even in all of Channary’s illustriousness, her face always looked to be her own, with little beautifications highlighting what she already had. Levana somehow seemed to think that any face that was not truly her own was the most beautiful.

Winter drew herself up from her bed, pulling the white covers of her bed up around her to hide the fact that she had fallen asleep in the clothes she had worn the night before. When she had made it back to her room, she’d been too exhausted and giddy to take it off, wanting for the night to never end; she regretted that decision now.

“Winter,” Levana snapped her name and Winter flinched. If Channary had been the one to wake Winter, she would have sighed dramatically, saying Winter’s name with a hint of annoyance. But Levana was not her sister. She did not get annoyed— she got angry.

Levana stormed to Winter’s bed, wrenching the covers off her step-daughter and dragging her by the wrist out of bed. She either didn’t notice or care that Winter was still dressed in her clothes from the night before, because she made no mention of it other than to tear down the zipper and shove Winter into her dressing room. Winter let out a small hiss as her elbow knocked into the wall, but she sounded no words of protest.

“I cannot believe you,” Levana growled, her feet pacing furiously from behind Winter’s curtain. “First you embarrass yourself last night by eating that street scum’s cake, and now you are late to your breakfast with Aimery. Stars, Winter, what the hell is wrong with you?”

Winter slipped her dress from her shoulders and let it drop to the floor. She tuned out her stepmother as she selected a deep purple dress with sleeves that reached her wrists and a bodice that was threaded with black vines that hugged her curves. After knowing Levana for a decade, she had the spiel down and did not need to hear it again. Yes, Winter was a disappointment, a disgrace and a burden upon her family, yada yada yada.

She stepped out from behind the curtain, turning her back so that Levana could zip up her dress. She did so with a violent passion, catching a bit of Winter’s hair in the zipper. Winter let out no noise of protest, knowing that it would only send the witch on another crazed lecture that Winter really didn’t feel the need to hear.

“Fix your hair before you come down to eat,” Levana commanded, her hand upon the door to exit. “You look like a mad woman.”

She slammed the door on her way out, and Winter let out a sigh of relief. She walked over to her vanity and sat down upon the stool, gazing as her reflection in wonder. For some reason, the girl that stared back at her looked different than she had before— perhaps it was truly the unruliness of her curls, but she thought that it had something to do with her eyes; they glimmered, somehow, despite her lack of sleep.

Winter twisted her hair into a knot at the back of her skull, doing her best to capture all the curls and smooth down the top as best she could. Then she put a heavy silver pin in her hair that was shaped like a lily and had little gems embedded within its center.

Sighing, she gave herself one last look before she left the room and headed toward the dining hall, preparing herself for an unpleasant breakfast.

***

Winter spread her arms out wide, allowing for the salty air to blow through her dress and cut all the way to her bones. She would have shivered if she were in her right mind, but Winter was hardly ever in her right mind, for it was a scary place to be. She much preferred the dreamland within her mind where she could escape to a whole other world— one that did not revolve around thinking about idiotic fiancés that she did not love.

Throughout the duration of breakfast, Winter’s mind had wandered once more to the night before of being wrapped in Jacin’s arms. She'd lived in the dream of dancing in a room of vibrant colors as Levana asked Aimery about business and Aimery talked about business and Winter wished that her porridge with little blueberries in it was poisoned. In fact, in her dreamland the little blueberries were the vessels of death, and both Aimery and Levana’s lips were dyed blue from the potent juices within.

But now that breakfast was over, and Aimery was off for a smoke while Levana went to go do whatever it was she did in her free time from torturing Winter, she had the rest of the morning to herself. It had been a while since Winter had been allowed time alone— time to do whatever she wanted, with no controlling relations to tell her what to do. The only problem was, she didn’t know what to do with herself.

Somehow she’d wandered out to the deck of the ship, the same place where she’d tried to jump overboard— the same place she’d met Jacin.

“Winter,” a voice sounded through Winter’s daydream. She heard it, but did not acknowledge its existence in any way, shape or form. It was so much easier to be with him in her dreamlands than in real life— for when they were in dreams, they were safe. In a dream, Winter could love someone like Jacin Clay; but her life had never been close to dream-like.

“Winter,” the voice repeated. He did not touch her as he said her name, as if unwilling to wake her from her trance. She appreciated his lack of shaking— she always despised when Levana shook her to wrench her from her dreamland.

She cracked one eye open, taking a peek at him, before shutting her eye once more. Jacin let out a little huff at this, though it was more of an awed huff than an annoyed one. She could feel him close to her, close enough to touch, but not touching her.

“I think it is unwise for the two of us to see one another from this day forth,” Winter said, never opening her eyes to look at Jacin. As long as she stayed in her dreamland she could imagine that she wasn’t saying these words that she didn’t want to say, and that rather than forbidding him to speak to her again, she was whispering words of endearment to him.

There was a moment of silence before he asked: “Is that how you really feel?”

“That is what I think, yes.”

“Those are two very different things,” Jacin said, and the note within his voice was enough to draw Winter away from her dreamland and into the reality of what was going on. _What was going on?_

“How so?” Winter opened her eyes and turned her gaze upon Jacin. He had his arms rested on the railings of the ship, his coat flapping in the strong wind. His long hair was tied back, but loose white-blond strands floated about his face in the wind. He was a boy of ice, with frozen eyes and frosted hair. Winter _longed_ to be a girl of ice.

He didn’t look sad, but rather his face was curious. Somehow he could see right through her lies and into her heart. He knew how she felt about him, which was surprising because Winter didn’t even know how she felt about him. Could a person really fall in love so fast? She did not know. It didn't matter either way— to see Jacin again was a death sentence for the both of them. The night before had been forbidden and wonderful, but it could not withstand the daylight.

“I think,” Jacin started, never taking his steely gaze away from hers, “that it would be idiotic for the two of us to have a secret affair— but I feel like I don’t particularly care about being an idiot as much as I used to.”

Winter rolled her eyes, then turned to look out upon the sea. The waves looked almost black, even in the middle of the day. She shivered to imagine herself sinking in the depths of those waves as she had almost done just two nights before.

“And I think,” Jacin continued, leaning forward so that Winter could see him in her peripheral, “that you feel the same way.”

“Ah,” Winter sighed, smirking at him. “That, unfortunately, is where you are wrong.”

“Is that so?”

“It is,” Winter snapped, wishing that she were back in her dreamland and not having this conversation that she did not understand. She closed her eyes and tried to find that place far, far away.

“Alright then,” Jacin nodded. “I guess this is where we say goodbye then.”

“Indeed,” Winter said.

When Jacin did not respond to her words, she opened her eyes and turned to look at him— except he was gone. He had disappeared like a shadow into the night, leaving her alone and cold.

Winter shut her eyes and tried to climb back into her dreamland, but the thoughts swirling about her mind prevented her from doing so. She wasn’t sure why, but she felt an aching loneliness within her. That was ridiculous; she’d only known Jacin for a day. She couldn’t miss him.

But she did.

Collecting herself, Winter stepped away from the deck of the ship and wandered back to her quarters. She needed to talk to someone who understood what she was going through and could explain to her exactly what she was feeling.

In a matter of minutes, she found herself in front of Cinder and Kai’s door. She stood there for a moment, unsure of what she would say— but then again, this was Cinder, and Cinder somehow understood Winter even when she didn’t understand herself.

She knocked three times, then waited. When no one answered, she knocked three more times, her anxiety building within her.

After another bout of triple knocking, the door swung open, revealing Kai, still dressed in his pajamas. Winter balked at him, unsure of what to make of cousin’s husband in his red and black striped pajamas. Last time Winter had checked, it was past ten in the morning— far too late for night clothes and bedhead.

“Hello, Winter,” Kai smiled at her, his hand reaching up to scratch at the back of his neck. “What can I do for you this morning?”

Winter felt her face grow hot, feeling as if she had barged into their room rather than knocked. “Oh, uh, hello, Kai,” Winter sputtered. Her fingers twisted in the fine material of her dress sleeve, picking at loose threads in the embroidery.

“Are you alright?” Kai asked, concern stitching across his brow.

“Yes, I’m fine,” Winter said, clearing her throat. “Is Cinder here? I have something I need to talk to her about.”

Kai nodded his head, allowing for a small hum to escape him. “Oh, yes, she’s here, but I’m afraid she isn’t feeling too well. I think she’s a bit seasick— she’s not particularly fond of ships. Or perhaps it was the lateness of the hour of which we stayed out, or–”

“Okay,” Winter cut him off, holding a hand up. Whatever was going on, it was clear that she wouldn’t get the chance to talk to Cinder. “I’ll talk to her later; send her my love.”

“I will do that gladly,” Kai grinned, his ears tinted pink. Then he nodded at her one last time, saying his goodbyes, and shut the door.

Winter let out a sigh, her whole body deflating as she stared at the dark mahogany door, her eyes measuring the swirls of what had once been trees out in the woods. She wished that she were a tree, tall and free, with her eyes staring at the stars and her lungs breathing only the fresh air of mother nature. If she were a tree, she could live in peace, never having to worry about issues such as her own, for tree families were uncomplicated and close.

But alas, as this tree was, Winter was upon a ship, far away from the sky and all the stars and a life filled with nothing but living in tranquility. She was in a land far away, with questions swirling about her mind that she didn’t have the answers to. But it did not matter, for life was not a dreamland, and Winter was never a girl destined to follow her dreams.


	6. Constellations

Jacin stared out at the waves, allowing for the churning body of water to draw his thoughts away from _her_. He didn't know how or why he had become so infatuated with someone who was clearly far out of his league in every way imaginable, but he had.

He didn't know exactly what his heart felt toward Winter Hayle, but he did know this: he felt alive when he was with her.

Heaving a great sigh, Jacin stepped away from the railing, mentally chastising himself for thinking about Winter. She was engaged— to be married. And even if she weren't, he had nothing in the world to offer her. He was a poor artist, son of an American nobody in Wisconsin. He didn't even have dreams of grandeur— something to promise her for the future. He was happy with his drawings and his life under the stars. But those kinds of aspirations didn't win over girls like Winter Hayle.

His feet carried him down below deck. He wandered aimlessly throughout the hallways, unsure of where he was going, but knowing that it was definitely somewhere.

Paintings of vibrant scenes decorated the hallways, artwork that he would have normally examined in a careful manner, marking different techniques and contrasts, but he was too distracted. Her words filled his head, yelling _you are wrong, you are wrong, you are wrong_. But if he were wrong, why did it feel _so right?_

When he arrived before Channary Blackburn's door, he wasn't surprised. Of course seeing her hadn't been his goal— and still wasn't— but he didn't know another soul upon this blasted ship. Well, he didn't know anyone else and also their room, though he was quite sure that Cinder and Kai, along with Mr. Prince would only be a door or two away.

He stared at the door, knowing that there was no force in heaven or hell that could make him knock upon it. Because no matter how his feelings for Winter tore at him, he still had some semblance of pride. He hadn't chased after her once she'd left him, and he wasn't going to chase after her now. But if help just happened to stumble his way, it wouldn't help to be a bit closer to it.

As if he had willed it, the door opened with a great, flourishing swing that could only be accomplished by Channary Blackburn herself. She stepped into the hall, wearing a deep navy dress with long sleeves and a plunging neckline. Her brown hair fell in ringlets about her made-up face. She was beautiful: an older version of her daughter. But to Jacin, she was just another woman; just another person who wasn't Winter Hayle.

"Mr. Clay," Channary said, astonished. "What are you doing, loitering about these halls? That's rather ungentlemanly, I must say."

It was funny how in the five seconds after Channary opened her door Jacin realized just how much he disliked the woman. The way she dressed and the way she looked at him as if he were someone who had to be pitied. And above all, he hated the way she talked— the way she somehow forgot to add letters to the end of words, or slurred vowels into one cohesive mesh of sound. Of course, he himself had a subtle Wisconsin accent, something that had slowly melted from his speech during his time in Europe, but it couldn't possibly be as bad the syllable-losing, slurpy southern accent.

"My apologies," Jacin said, attempting not to sneer. "Perhaps I'll just go now."

"Oh, nonsense!" Channary exclaimed, extending her elbow in Jacin's direction. "Come now, you can walk me up to the deck. I been needing to stretch my legs, and a lick of fresh air won't hurt, now won't it."

"Uh, I guess so."

Reluctantly, Jacin linked his arm through Channary's, allowing her to lead him down the hall, and back out to the deck of the ship. She chattered the whole way, filling his ears with nonsense concerning business back home and the rage of Kingsley Thorne and her speculations on what would be served for dinner. Jacin wished to saw his arm from her grasp and run away, but there was a burning question within him— one that he knew Channary could answer.

"Ma'am," Jacin started, his face stoic, but his insides cringing. "Could I ask you a question?"

"Oh, of course, peach," Channary grinned, pearly teeth flashing.

Jacin screwed up his brow, as if he were trying to draw the question from his mind. "Why is Winter marrying that guy, Aimery?"

Channary heaved a great sigh. She pulled Jacin to sit down on the very bench he'd been sitting on when Winter had run past him that fateful night. She relinquished her hold upon his arm, and Jacin immediately pulled it close to his body, wishing for Channary to never gain custody of his limb again.

"Well, you see," Channary began, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. "In order to answer that question, you haveta take a good look at my sister. Levana–" Channary drew out Levana's name so it sounded more like Levahhhna, "–and I went to a girl's school in England, you know, and while we were there she met Evret Hayle, Winnie's daddy. A course, he wasn't anyone's daddy at that point, he was just a poor janitor at the school, workin' a take care of his pretty lil' wife.

"My sister fell in love with him almost instantly— went absolutely crazy for that boy, ya know? I mean, I was all over boys— actually neva finished my schoolin 'cause I done got myself pregnant during my last year and was sent home— but Levana never was like that. Least not 'till Evret came round. Ooooweeee she was wild about him, even though he had a wife and lil' baby girl, she thought he was the man for her, my golly. She stayed in England for over a decade, takin' up work, and just waiting."

"Waiting?"

"Yes, sugar, it was like she was waiting," Channary said, though her words were not impatient. She ran her fingers gently through her ringlets, undoing the tangles caused by the wind. "Because when lil' Winnie was just ten years old, lovely Solstice Hayle, her mama, died. Just passed on into the next life while she was sleepin'. Broke poor Evret's heart."

The hair on the back of Jacin's neck stood on edge. It seemed strange that Levana would wait for a married man— that after waiting, she finally got what she wanted. And from what little he knew of Levana, he suspected that there was another piece to this story; that Levana Blackburn hadn't waited blindly.

"She just... died in her sleep?" Jacin asked, cautious.

Channary's lips puckered, as if there were a lemon in her mouth, but she found the sour taste to be almost delightful. She tittered, "Well you just done caught on to what I been alluding to, you clever cat." Channary fluttered her lashes and moved her shoulders in a sort of small dance. "I think she done killed her— waited 'till the time was right and offed lovely Solstice Hayle. She's a damn snake in the grass, my sister!"

"Did Evret know?" Jacin asked, unable to contain his curiosity. "Did he love Levana?"

"My golly, no!" Channary proclaimed, throwing her hands out before her to punctuate her words. "Not even my mama could've loved my sister. She's meaner than a wet panther and ugly enough to turn sweet milk to clabber without all her fancy cosmetics. But poor Evret was sinking under funeral costs, and well, you know the financial situation of my family. Not that Mr. Hayle was the kind of man to take advantage of the wealthy, but my sister can be rather... persuasive, when she wants to be. He didn't have much ova choice in the matter."

Jacin took in her words, digesting all that they meant. Could Levana have killed Winter's mom? And if so, was there a possibility that she would try to do the same thing to Winter? Was that perhaps why she was too terrified to leave a man she clearly hated?

It was as if Channary had cleared a dirty window that Jacin had been trying to look through; he suddenly saw things with clarity. Winter was scared— fearful of what her stepmother would do to her if she didn't go through with her marriage. Jacin felt sick just thinking about it.

"Oh peach, don't get too down on yourself now," Channary chided, tapping a finger under Jacin's chin. He withheld a sneer, keeping his face stony despite his agitation at her touching him. For, while he did not despise Channary as he did her sister, he held no fondness for her either. She was simply a well of information, and Jacin was dying of thirst.

"It frustrates us all— poor Winnie's dilemma. Selene, that lil' rebel girl's gone and tried to get Winnie to run away a few times— to come live with her and Mr Prince even. But she just won't agree to it. There's still a certain amount of fear. Loveliest girl, but she never was a loud rioter," Channary said, tilting her head to the side. "Although, that ain't to say she don't have her own sparks. I's seen that girl defy my sister in the cleverest of ways."

"But it's a lost cause. No matter your affections for the girl or even her cares for you, nothin' can change the circumstance of the matter. She's engaged to be married to Aimery Park, and he's just about the wealthiest fella around," Channary explained. "He's even got more money than them Princes, which is sayin' something. And while Winnie's not shallow like that, my sister is. She'da do anything for power— especially if it's something that don't hurt her none."

Jacin watched the people milling about the deck of the ship, dressed in fine clothes. The women wore shawls of reds and blues and purples and the men were draped in expensive overcoats. Many of them carried copies of the bible in their hands. He realized that it was Sunday; people were attending church. It had been years since Jacin had been a part of a congregation. Not since his mother stopped forcing him to go after her sketched a portrait of the preacher with devil's horns.

He had been fourteen then, and in the near decade since his last attendance to a service, he hadn't thought much on the matter of religion. To him, people were themselves— there was no power dictating the motions of mankind. Perhaps there was a higher power, but he didn't care about things as inconsequential as Jacin, or any others of his species. If there was a god, he had left them to make their own lives, and Jacin just couldn't see the point in praying to someone who would never come. What was the point in speaking when no one ever listened?

But there was some piece of him, a softer Jacin, who wished that perhaps that higher power did care. That the higher power would listen to him and come to his aid. Because he cared, for reasons unknown to him, for Winter Hayle. It was as simple and as complex as that. For he knew that his heart knew her heart, but their hands were tied. They were too close and too far apart, like constellations forever trapped in the sky.

"I wish I could tell you," Channary said, "that true love always wins, but I can't. I can't even say I ever experienced true love for myself, but I seen it and I know what it looks like. I know the face of love, and it is a face that you 'n Winnie are tryin' hard ta mask."

Channary heaved a great sigh, drawing her shawl close around her body. Her olive skin had gooseflesh rippling up in textured bumps. She looked both old and young at the same time; like a woman who had seen the world and one who had never left home. She was a silly thing where manners were concerned, but hidden beneath the shallow exterior lay a woman who knew things— understood them, even..

"Winter's not gonna choose you," Channary stated, though the words were gentle as they fell from her mouth. Jacin recoiled, not having expected such a bitter proclamation. "At least, not unless things change. She won't come for you unless she stops being afraid."

Jacin swallowed, nodding his head slowly. Then he stood from the bench, and walked away from Channary and out to the deck's railing. He felt like a man who'd been given a life sentence: a sentence to wander the Earth forever in love, but never able to be with that love. It was ridiculous really, his obsession. He'd known her for mere days. That wasn't hardly enough time to fall in love with someone. And yet, Jacin had fallen hard.

But he would never do anything to hurt Winter, even if that meant never seeing her again.

So as Jacin stared out at the open expanse of sea, he released his feelings, building a wall around his heart and all the love within it.


	7. For Forever

“Here you go, love,” Kai said, handing Cinder a warm cup of tea. She smiled up at him and accepted the blue china cup, wrapping her fingers around the cylindrical frame. He would have brought out a saucer for her to rest the cup on, but in their many months of marriage, Kai had yet to get Cinder to see the reasoning behind such a thing.

“Thank you,” Cinder said, taking a sip of her tea. She held it close to her body, as if she were cold and the cup was her only source of warmth. Kai set his own cup of tea aside and crawled into bed with her, nestling against her side.

He laid his head in her lap and closed his eyes, perfectly content with the world. Sure, he was on a ship sailing toward the land that held the man who was supposed to have married his wife— a land that he had been to only on a few occasions and found confusing and foreign. But he was with Cinder, and that made everything seem right.

Cinder let out a content sigh, then placed her own teacup aside, empty as it was, and ran her fingers through Kai’s hair. Her touch was only gentle as her fingers played with his inky strands of hair. It was a side to Cinder that only Kai, and perhaps Winter, knew. A side that was love and not ferocity, though there was always some sarcasm to be dealt with on both sides.

Kai flipped onto his back so that he could gaze up at her. She grinned down at him, though her face was pale and her eyes tired. Kai felt his heart tug as he took in her features— the sickness that had overcome her upon that day. Even though he knew it was nothing, it still made him ache to see her in any form of misery. She was his dearest love, and her pain was his.

“How are you feeling?” Kai asked, reaching up a hand to touch Cinder’s face. She leaned into the touch, closing her eyes as Kai’s hand cupped her cheek. Her hair fell about her face, not confined to its usual knot or tail on the back of her head, and Kai brushed the strands away.

“Not bad now,” Cinder said, clucking her tongue. “That tea fixed me up real nice. You British people sure know how to make a cup.”

“No, you Americans just don’t know how,” Kai laughed, lifting himself upright so that he sat shoulder to shoulder with Cinder. “I swear, it’s like you people played that game— telephone— in learning how to make tea. Absolutely barbaric.”

Kai reached for his own cup and took a sip, relishing the warmth that spread through his very being. He remembered the first time that Cinder had made him tea, back before their secret relationship had begun and the two had just been very fond, close friends. It had been a wonderful day, terrible, abominable tea aside. It was a day filled with sunshine on green leaves and cool brown dirt; a day with only life and laughter that floated endlessly on gentle breezes.

“Well, you know us Americans— always rebelling. Ruining tea was simply our way of really breaking things off.”

“That explains a lot,” Kai chuckled. He set his cup aside, smacking his lips lightly and folding his arms contentedly over his middle. Cinder placed a hand on his arm, her fingers icy as they touched his skin. Kai flinched, then took hold of her hand, warming it between his own.

They said no words— Cinder simply watched as Kai absently nurtured warmth back into her hands. It was a rather common occurrence between the two, with Cinder always running cold and Kai hot. It was almost strange, the comfortableness of the situation as a whole— the way in which love was no question but always the answer.

“Winter stopped by today,” Kai said, remembering the incident of Cinder’s cousin coming to their room. “She wanted to talk to you— seemed rather distressed— but you, of course, were yacking in the can.”

Cinder elbowed him, though it held little malice. “If that is what you told her, Kai Prince, I swear on all the stars–”

“Oh don’t get your knickers in a twist,” Kai laughed, pulling Cinder’s fingers up to his lips and kissing each knuckle. “I only told her that you were seasick. I said nothing of Carswell Thorne Jr.”

Cinder wrenched her hand away from Kai, then whacked him on his arm, a murderous glint in her eyes. “I told you to stop calling it that!” She placed a hand over her stomach protectively, glaring at Kai as she did so. “I hate it when you say that.”

Another laugh escaped Kai, though it was not the mean sort. He lay down once more on Cinder’s lap, pressing his ear to her stomach as if he could hear the small soul within. It was perhaps his most favorite thing in the world, to lay beside Cinder and feel the small protrusion of her stomach and know that they were having a baby. Kai rested a hand over her stomach and closed his eyes, savoring this moment of peace.

“I mean,” Cinder continued, “mathematically it doesn’t even make any sense. I haven’t seen Carswell in for a year now, and I’m only about four or five months along.”

“Ah, but if he shoots me down once we get to America, that child will be raised believing Carswell Thorne to be his father." Kai reasoned. "Maybe that will help him love the man more— try not to seek revenge. You know I don’t want our child to grow up and be a killer.”

“You’re delirious,” Cinder groaned, though her fingers slid into Kai’s hair and traced the harsh lines of his face.

“And besides, we have Peony picked out for a girl’s name, but no boy’s name.”

“I thought you told me just last week that you’re positive it will be a girl,” Cinder accused, glaring down her nose at him.

“Well of course it’s going to be a girl,” Kai said. “But we need to have a boy’s name picked out just in case my keen psychic abilities are somewhat off in this scenario. And I think that Carswell is just as fine a name as any–”

Cinder leaned down and placed her lips on his, effectively shutting him up. It was somewhat of a strain, though not too great, considering the smallness of her baby bump. She had only just begun to show mere weeks ago, exclaiming to Kai about it one morning as she examined herself in the mirror. They had known that they were pregnant some time before that, what with Cinder’s mild morning sickness and the abrupt stop in her menstrual cycle. They had visited a doctor who had confirmed it for them. But when they had seen that little bump, everything was suddenly so real.

They had talked about having children, though it hadn’t exactly been their plan to have one so soon after marrying. It was a pleasant surprise. But all the same, they were trying to keep things under the wraps until after Cinder talked to Carswell Thorne and his father and cleared the air. Neither of their parents, or even Winter, knew of the child growing within Cinder—the little piece of both of them.

And besides, there was something almost magical about keeping a secret so big between just the two of them. If anything, it made the whole thing feel even more unreal, and yet, the most spectacular reality.

Cinder broke the gentle kiss, falling back against the headboard once more. She let out a sigh, and Kai kissed her protruding stomach, cupping it gently. Cinder lifted her soft purple pajama top up, exposing the bump to the world as Kai whispered soothing promises to it. He lay on his stomach, sprawled over Cinder’s lap, reciting stories of himself and Cinder as she ran her fingers through his hair and smiled. Then he placed another kiss on the bump, and sat up once more.

“You look tired,” Kai said, touching a strand of Cinder’s hair behind her ear. “Are you feeling well? Can I get you anything?”

“No,” Cinder sighed, leaning her head on Kai’s shoulder. “I’m just exhausted— it’s so very strange to feel something within me moving, and then there was the morning sickness. Gah, I really thought I was done with that already.”

“Me too,” Kai said, taking her hand in his.

“But I’m happy,” Cinder whispered, turning to look at Kai, a smile overcoming her face. Kai pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose. “I’m scared, but I’m giddy at the idea of you and me being parents. Sometimes I just can’t believe it’s happening.”

“Mmmm,” Kai hummed.

Cinder yawned, and Kai pressed a kiss to her warm cheek. Then he climbed out of bed, smoothing the comforter over her as he left.

“Where are you going?”

“Just to wash up,” Kai explained, waving his arms around to mimic washing himself. “I’ll be back in moments, my love.”

She pouted as he walked to the end of their room, and Kai couldn’t help but grin. He blew her a kiss as he stepped in the doorway, and saw a small smile crack over her lips as he closed the door.

He was quick in the lavatory, not being particularly fond of public baths. But by the time he reentered his and Cinder’s room not ten minutes later, he discovered her to be asleep, head resting on her chest. For a while he just stood by the door and watched her peaceful face in wonder, memorizing her slow breathing and the way in which her lashes brushed against her cheek.

Tentatively, he walked toward the bed. He brushed a strand of hair from her face, then eased her down into a more comfortable position. She mumbled a string of incomprehensible words, then let out a sigh as she relaxed on the bed.

Kai pressed a kiss to her forehead, then climbed into bed beside her. He pulled the covers up over her and tucked them around her shoulders, making sure that not an inch of her was left out to the cold air.

He grabbed a book from his bedside table and opened it to where he had left off, not being particularly tired due to the earliness of the hour. All the while, he allowed for one hand to play with the soft strands of Cinder’s hair.

After some time had passed, Cinder rolled to her side, eyes bleary but open as she looked at Kai. She was in that stage of consciousness that one only ever remembered as being a dream upon truly waking. But in all honesty, that’s how Kai always felt while with Cinder: as if he were in one long, blissful dream.

“Your hair’s damp,” Cinder mumbled, her hand reaching up but falling just short of his face. She yawned, and her hand fell upon Kai’s arm.

“Yes, love. I went to the bath, remember?” Kai said, folding down the corner of the page he was on and setting his book aside.

“Mmmm,” Cinder hummed, her eyes already closed once more.

He turned out the light, then snuggled down beside Cinder, throwing his arm over her side and drawing close to her. Cinder nestled her head against his chest, her hair tickling his chin and her body warming his cool skin.

“Love you,” Cinder sighed, the words slurred in her near-sleep haze.

“I love you, too.”

Kai held Cinder close, feeling every breath she took and the beating of her heart. He felt her and only her, and that was all that he needed for forever.

He remembered the first time he met her, when they were just two dumb kids, connected only by random chance. He had loved her not in the moment he met her, but in the moment that she left. Because whenever she was gone, there was something lonely living inside of him— perhaps it was his very soul.

And every time he had seen her since their young teen years—those times when she had come to see her cousin—he had always waited, longing for just a moment of being with her.

The day that he had discovered her engagement to Carswell Thorne had felt like his last upon the Earth, and the day that he had declared his love for her and she for him had been his resurrection. They did not have a love at first sight, but they had a love that never faded. He would love her until the end, no matter what.

So as he listened to her soft breaths and the sound of the sea around them, he let himself fall into sleep, for it was slow and warm and comforting, so long as she was there with him— his dream forever.


	8. A Bird in a Cage

Black ringlets fell over dark shoulders, cascading like rain from the sky as Winter released her hair from its knot. She winced as she fruitlessly tried to untangle the frizzed tangles. Somehow she managed to separate her hair into three sections and began to brain the locks messily down her back. When she was done, she tied the braid off with a small pink ribbon, pulling it tight over the remaining strands of hair.

She pulled the braid over her shoulder and looked at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were wide and dark and tired, and the scars that lined her cheek seemed more prominent than ever— a constant reminder of Levana and her fear tactics. She loathed the scars for what they had caused her father to do, but wore them without fear, knowing that no longer could Levana torment Evret Hayle.

But while she could not hurt Winter's father any longer, Winter had been left barer than ever— exposed to the cruelty of Levana Blackburn.

Winter released a sigh, sagging until her elbows dipped to touch her vanity table and her warm cheeks rested in her palms. She was completely and utterly exhausted in every way imaginable. From her lack of sleep the night before to her conversation with Jacin and inability to talk to Cinder, Winter felt alone in the world.

Of course, everything had felt empty in the time since her father's death. His absence in her life had nearly destroyed her, especially when accompanied by her engagement to Aimery Park only a week after his funeral. The only light had been Cinder coming to visit, and then stay— but things would change once they got to America. Winter would marry, and then who knew what would become of her? It would just be Mr. and Mrs. Park and Levana forever, with the first and third always tormenting the second. It was death while still breathing. No; it was a fate worse than death. But it was Winter's fate.

The door to Winter's room opened abruptly, and Winter hastened to draw her black silken robe over her night clothes. She threw her braid back over her shoulder and stood as Aimery approached her.

"Aimery," Winter choked on the name, not entirely surprised to see him, but not welcome to it all the same. "What are you doing here?"

"You didn't come to dinner, snowflake," Aimery stated bluntly, flicking a piece of lint from the collar of his suit. "Is a man not welcome to visit his beautiful fiancée? Or are only the street scum allowed to behold her these days?"

Winter's heart skipped a beat, but she folded her arms over her chest defensively. "You are the one who invited him to dinner last night, not I–"

"You know that is not what I'm speaking of," Aimery shouted, slamming his palm flat against Winter's vanity table. A bottle of perfume toppled over. "I saw the two of you out there, looking into each other's eyes and staring out at the sea. You think you can stumble around with another man behind my back? Artist American Hobo Guy is your new lover? Well I've got news for _you_."

Winter let out a little gasp as Aimery leaned in, his gaze ferocious and his teeth bared. His eyes, which were black in shade always, had taken on a sort of empty look that made them bottomless and cruel.

"I will not tolerate any such thing. Not from my soon-to-be wife," Aimery's voice dropped to a growl. "And if I hear one more whisper of disloyalty from you, there will be major consequences to deal with, do you hear me?"

Tears stung at Winter's eyes, but she bit her lip and choked them back as she nodded at Aimery. He eased away from her, his warm breath still lingering in the air surrounding her along with the atmosphere of danger.

"Good," Aimery sighed, though it was more in the way a teenager would at their kid sibling. "I'm glad we got that settled. Goodnight then, my snowflake."

Winter mumbled her goodbye, trying her best not to flinch as Aimery pressed a kiss to her cheek and walked out the door. She watched as he left, closing it in such a gentle manner that one would hardly know that a ragged, violent beast lived beneath his skin.

She hardly dared to breath in the moments after his departure, making sure he was gone before she threw herself upon her bed and let out a broken sob. Emotions that always lived inside her crept to the surface, flowing out of her like a geyser of pure pain. She hated Aimery and the way that he had complete control over her. She hated Levana for entering her life and tormenting her instead of loving her as a mother should have. She hated her life— she hated existing. For her existence was painful and lonely and wretched.

Pulling herself up and off her mattress, she rushed to the door, needing to talk to someone— someone who understood and could calm her. She needed to talk to Cinder.

In an instant, she was out the door and standing before Cinder and Kai's room. She raised her hand to knock, but before her fingers met wood, she noticed that there was no light coming out from beneath the door. And upon remembering Cinder's illness from that day, Winter hesitated, not wanting to disturb her cousin in a time of sickness.

Her hand fell to her side, and she slumped against the door, sliding to the floor. She prayed that it would open and Cinder would walk out to talk to her, as if called by some psychic bond. A moment later, her prayer was answered— but the devil had picked up the phone rather than an angel.

A door opened down the hall, and Levana Blackburn stepped out. She was still dressed in her dinner finery, her dress as red as blood, perfectly matching her nails and lipstick. Winter's stomach turned with hatred just at the sight of her. For not only was she the woman who tortured Winter, she was the woman who had destroyed Evret Hayle.

"What are you doing?" Levana snapped, marching over to Winter and yanking her up off the ground. "Lying about in your night clothes. Someone might think you're a prostitute." Levana's face darkened with her words. "Although, they might not be far off with that assumption."

Winter scowled, drawing her robe tight around her and folding her arms. She was not in the mood for a row with Levana. Of course, she never found their arguments particularly enjoyable, but at this very moment she was already on the edge of hysteria. Adding yelling to that would not solve any of her problems.

"I just spoke with Aimery and he told me of your little affair with that Clay boy. What the hell do you think you're doing, slumming around with that scum!"

"He's not scum," Winter proclaimed, taking a step back from Levana and her harsh words. "And I'm not slumming it with him— I told him that I wish to never see him again."

"Don't you talk back to me, Winter," Levana growled, pointing a finger in her face. "Or so help me stars, there will be hell to pay!"

"I'm already living in hell!" Winter yelled, throwing her hands out for emphasis. "My life is hell! You're hell! Aimery is hell! And quite frankly, I no longer give a damn what you think, you ugly, pathetic, disgusting–"

Levana slapped Winter, knocking her back against the wall with the force of it. She did not advance on her, though her entire body shook with rage as Winter cupped a hand to her cheek.

"You do not know hell," Levana jeered, her cheeks flushed with the heat of her anger. "But I swear to you and every star above that if you so much as dare to step a toe out of line again, there is not a soul on Earth that can save you from my wrath. Do you hear me?"

Winter set her jaw, determined not to show Levana just how afraid of her she was.

"Do you hear me?"

"Yes," Winter whispered.

"What?" Levana growled through her teeth.

"I heard you loud and clear."

"Good," Levana sniffed, straightening her dress. "I'm glad you understand something, you stupid little girl. After all, you should be thanking me. Arranging such a fine marriage to a handsome, wealthy man. You do not have a thing in the world to complain about."

Winter nearly choked in her effort to not scream. But as Levana walked down the corridor and away from her, she couldn't help the tears that slipped down her cheeks. These ones were silent, as opposed to the loud ones that had overcome her after Aimery's outburst. But while those tears had been broken, these were empty.

After some time, she picked herself up off the ground, and reentered her room. Everything was the same as she had left it, vanity items scattered and her bed in a mess of sheets. But it all felt different; it looked like something unfamiliar—something that she knew nothing of. The arrangement of the room was somehow something she did not recognize.

How had she, Winter Hayle, ended up here? A rich girl born to poor parents. A girl who was once free now chained to a man she hated and governed by Satan's mistress. She was not meant for this life as much as a bird was meant to live in a cage.

Slowly, she picked up the discarded items from her vanity table and set them neatly in order. Then she walked to the bed and made it up. She cleaned the room until it was perfection— the sort of perfection that Levana admired. Because in Winter's eyes, perfection was not symmetrical and orderly; it was chaos and joy and life. Beauty was not something that needed precision, for beauty was love and love alone.

Winter sniffed, placing her hands on her hips and staring at the room around her. She felt absolutely nothing— not gratification or satisfaction. All she felt was the emptiness within her and the way if howled into the night like a wolf separated from its pack.

For a while she just observed the room. She knew that it was not hers, not actually, seeing how it was just a room upon a ship. But it felt as if she were trespassing— living in a world which she did not belong to. It was almost heartbreaking, this feeling of not belonging. For she was a girl of stardust and wishes, and such lovely things could not survive in a world so cruel.

Without even thinking, Winter rushed to her closet, pulling off her night clothes and slipping into her simplest dress— a baby blue one with long sleeves and only a short v-neck. The dress fluttered past her waist and to her ankles, but the bodice and sleeves were embroidered with pale white shooting stars. It was the only dress that she still had that she had picked out with her father. It was a dress of wishes— just as Winter had once been a girl of wishes.

She managed to tie up the back of the dress with little difficulty, then walked over to her vanity. Quickly, she clipped a necklace around her neck— a simple one with a charm of a half moon. It was a necklace that had once belonged to Winter's mother. It was also the only necklace that belonged to Solstice that Levana hadn't managed to sell off. The charm was silver and tarnished, but that gave it much of the same appeal as Winter's face: splendid because of its blemishes and not in spite of them.

Winter rushed to the door, stopping only for an instant to glance around the room, wondering if this was the right choice. But as she looked at all her possessions—expensive and beautiful and useless—she knew that they had never been hers, not really. Because dreams and wishes were not things of substance, and dreams and wishes were all that Winter longed for.

So she left the room, shutting the door with a soft click behind her. Then she ran through the halls and out on the deck, for she knew that he would be there. She wasn't entirely sure how she knew this, but she just did. Perhaps it was the stardust within her veins, knowing that he, too, had wished for her to be his, just as she had wished for him.

Her footsteps echoed through the hall, but no one came to stop her. In her haste to meet the boy she was possibly in love with, she practically flew. She was done being a bird in a cage, for her wings were not broken, and her lungs ached for the cool air of the night sky. She was a star, doomed to fall or to fly it did not matter; she was soaring far, far away, and that freedom was all that mattered.


	9. As it Should Be

The endless abyss of stars matched Jacin's soul; for his soul was a thing so lonesome, kept only from the dark by the relief of dreams. He was a creature of a pessimistic nature, but there was still a child living within him, continuing to wish for things that could never be.

He wished that he could work as an artist and be seen, not as a vagrant, but as a man of craft. He wished that he could look his father in the eye and say that he had no regret for not learning his trade. He wished that Winter Hayle could love him.

"Jacin," a voice whispered out from the stars. Light streaked across the sky as one of the trillions of lights fell from heaven and down to Earth. " _Jacin_ ," the voice repeated.

Sitting up from his reclined position on a wooden bench, Jacin found himself looking at Winter Hayle herself, dressed all in blue and more beautiful than ever. Briefly, he wondered if he was dreaming.

"Winter," Jacin said, her name but a breath upon his lips.

She motioned to sit down on the bench beside him, and Jacin immediately put his feet on the deck of the ship. She sat within inches of him, the warmth of her radiating out like a beacon of sunshine on the longest winter's night.

"Could you draw me?" Winter asked, somewhat twitchy in manner as she asked the question.

"Draw you?" Jacin could hardly fathom that she was there. _Was she even real?_

"Yes, draw me," Winter repeated with a curt nod, her face eternally earnest. "You're an artist. You must draw people. Would you do me the honor of drawing me?"

Jacin resisted the urge to laugh. From the very moment he had met her, his fingers had itched to paint her dark eyes and wild hair. She was a masterpiece walking— to capture her was to capture the splendor of heaven itself. She was real, despite all the cruelty in the world, she was real.

"Why do you laugh?" She asked. "Are you not an artist after all?"

Shaking his head, Jacin examined her, a wry smile sliding up his lips. "I laugh only because I have wanted to draw you from the very moment I laid eyes on you. The problem is, I have no paper nor paint. So it seems that we must both be disappointed."

Winter shut her eyes, and Jacin worried that she was crying for a moment, until he heard her hum in concentration. "Hmmm," she breathed, then opened one eye to peer at him. "I think I know just the place."

She stood from the bench and held out a hand to Jacin. He hesitated for barely a breath before he slipped his fingers into hers, and they ran off together.

He did not know why she came before him after both she and Channary had made it clear that he didn't have a fighting change with her. Perhaps it was all just a dream—her coming to him, loving him. If it was all a dream, he prayed to never wake.

Their arms swung between them as they traipsed through the ship halls and into the library. Jacin hadn't even known that the ship had one until he stepped foot inside, his eyes widening as he took in the splendor of the place.

The room was lit with a soothing, golden light, made more alive by the sea green armchairs and bronze-colored carpet. The walls were a soft cream, and a chandelier shined from the center of the room. It was a regal sort of place, and Jacin suddenly felt much too dirty to be in a place so fine. But Winter dragged him along without any hesitation.

There were few people in the room due to the lateness of the hour— just past nine. Everyone was out drinking or dancing or sleeping at this time, but Jacin was alive with the energy of being with Winter. He knew that he was not in a dream anymore, for he was too alive, just as he had been the night before while dancing with Winter. He wondered how men slept— dreamed— when there was so much living to do and not enough time to do it all.

"Here," Winter said, pulling Jacin to a shelf filled with books and books and books. But atop the shelf of leather-bound novels rested an ornately painted wooden box. Winter pulled it down, nearly dropping it as the weight pulled at her arms. Glass rattled from within. Jacin reached out to take it from her, but she shook her head, eyes alight with joy.

"They wouldn't like the looks of you taking this here," Winter whispered, nodding to the librarian eyeing them closely. "Best to let me handle it until we reach a place more private."

Jacin nodded, and allowed for her to carry the box to the desk. The clerk eyed her warily, but melted as she began to speak to him in that wonderful way she had. Jacin couldn't even hear her, having stayed back and away from the scrutinous eyes, but he knew that she was working her way with the man by affects of her charm.

A few minutes later, Winter gestured for Jacin to follow her. She lifted the box from the desk and walked toward the exit of the library. Jacin scurried after her, not daring to look at the man standing at the desk. He felt as if he were stealing, though he knew not why. Perhaps it was the never-ending suspicion of the upper class and the way they stared down their noses at him. Even if they were not judging, they were.

Winter's laughter met him out in the hall, along with her gleaming smile. He had never before seen such a vibrant smile— not even upon her face. For her grins had been guarded before this night. Even while they had danced just a day before, there had been a sadness within her eyes. But now her teeth flashed pearly in the light and her eyes sparkled with the sort of joy that only the free had. She was a soul no longer bound by change, and her body rejoiced in it.

They wandered to a secret alcove, hidden behind a deep velvet curtain. It was a small space, but wide and well-lit enough for Jacin to get a proper view of Winter. She was all seriousness as he posed her for a drawing, having her lean back against the wall with her hands over her heart and her hair wild and falling loosely from its braid. She looked like a greek goddess, except her features were far more beautiful than even Aphrodite had ever been, golden apple or not. She was a creation that surpassed all other great works of art, for she was real and living and _spectacular_. To put it simply, there was no other beauty to properly compare her to, for she was another level of divinity.

Jacin opened the box, and drew out a pad of paper. There were different mediums within the box, from deep paints in heavy glass bottles, to pastels in small cardboard boxes. It was the latter that Jacin chose despite his itch to use the expensive paints. For with the messy pastels he could capture all the colors that were her but not upon her, and all the life that lived inside of her. With the chalk, he could create the version of her that he saw rather than a photographic copy.

Winter uttered no words as Jacin drew her, but stared at him all the while. Her legs were tucked under her and her dress splayed about her person in a most elegant manner. She kept both hands resting above her heart, one clenched loosely as the other held the back of it. Her braid fell over her shoulder, but loose curls escaped in every direction. And then there was her face— she smiled with the smallest of smiles, and her eyes were wild and vibrant.

He drew her not as she was— a mere girl— but as he knew her to be: a soul of most luminous, radiant light. He began by drawing her person, making sure that he got the arc of her neck and the scars that traced down her cheeks. Then he captured the blue of her dress and the deep hues of her skin. He drew her black hair in a messy fashion, adding accents of blue and yellow that matched her dress, along with a highlight of pink just above. He drew shooting stars about her figure rather than upon it, dancing out into the world. He made her eyes gleam with the deepest shades of brown, and caused for her background to radiate a heavenly glow of gold.

By the time he finished her portrait, Jacin captured the girl that he saw— one who was brave and confident and brilliant. She was a girl of burning sunsets and heavenly might, not one of ice and cold and fear. She was a woman who knew that there was life, and that she would seek it out, no matter the cost.

And though Jacin knew not why she had come to him upon that evening after leaving him forever just hours before, he understood that her appearance before him was monumental. It was she, gathering the pieces of herself, and becoming whole for the first time in her life. So that was the woman that he drew— one who was _whole_.

He added a final touch to her face, allowing for the scars upon her cheek to fly among the shooting stars. Then, quite breathlessly, he handed the portrait to Winter. She had held perfectly still whilst he drew her, breaths contained and limbs stone-still. But now she was alive once more as she took the paper from him and stared at it with greedy eyes. He watched as her lips twitched upward and her fingers traced the chalk lines, gently smudging his masterpiece. He did not care— for she was the work of art, not the chalk drawing. Even if he captured her in such glory, she still surpassed all that he could ever create.

After she had her fill of gazing at herself, she set the portrait down upon the ground, then crawled on all fours in his direction. She moved in a slow and elegant manner, keeping her eyes upon him as she approached. When she sat before him, just a breath away, there was something about her stare that was undeniable. There was fire in her soul, and Jacin was only just now realizing how cold he had been all his life.

He hadn't intended to kiss her; but as she looked up at him with those deep brown eyes, and as her breath had warmed his face, he couldn't help but allow for his lips to touch hers. And once they were kissing, there was no way to stop. He pulled her into his arms, and she let out a little sigh. Her fingers traced his face, mapping out cheekbones and eyes and jawline. His fingers played with the loose strands of her hair and cupped the back of her neck.

They only broke apart when all the oxygen had abandoned the room, and both gasped desperately. Winter sat between his legs, leaning against him so that there was not a wisp of space between them. Their breaths were ragged, but they were ragged together, and their eyes were sparkling with the mischief of not a first kiss, but the first kiss that meant something for the both of them. And when they had regained their breaths once more, they kissed again and again and again until the whole world became lips and hands and souls intertwining for eternity.

"I'm as free as a bird," Winter whispered, as Jacin's lips wandered from her lips and to her jaw, then traveled down her neck. "I'm as free as a bird. Nothing can bring me down. _I'm as free as a bird._ "

"And where does this bird plan to fly off to?" Jacin asked breathlessly, his lips meeting hers once more.

"Wherever you are," Winter sighed. She pulled Jacin from his leaned position against the wall and to the floor. She hovered above him, arms keeping her propped up. Jacin stared at her, eyes wide and heart racing. He reached to touch the end of her braid, now a complete mess of curls. "Wherever you are, I shall always be. No longer will I abide by the wishes of others. No longer will I worry about my reputation. For wherever you are, I shall be. You jump, I jump."

"You jump, I jump," Jacin repeated, cupping her face with both his hands. "So it's over? You and Aimery? It's done?"

"I'm done with him," Winter said. "Him and Levana and all their plans. I can't live like a bird in a cage."

"You were never meant to live like a bird in a cage," Jacin said. "You were born to be free— you were born to blue skies and purples seas and a life full of magnificence."

"Don't wax poetic on me now," Winter teased. And before Jacin could reply, she was kissing him once again. Her hands cupped the back of his head, her fingers playing with the fine strands of his hair. He pulled her close, then rolled to his side, propping himself up on one elbow.

"I mean it," Jacin mumbled, his fingers tracing her lips. "I knew from the moment that I saw you that you were just— _everything_."

"The first time you saw me I was preparing to jump into the sea."

"Because you were trapped. But now you're not; you're free," Jacin said. "And now you can see the world not as it is, but as it should be."

"But all I see right now is you," Winter giggled, looking up at him with curious eyes.

"And that," Jacin grinned, "is how it should be."


	10. Sinking

"How did you get these?" Jacin asked, his three middle fingers tracing down her right cheek, directly over her scars. His touch was light, almost like a soft trail of tears falling from her face.

Winter closed her eyes, remembering the day. Her mother had just died, and she was a girl of only about ten. Her days seemed to be filled with sadness then, so it seemed almost fitting when she got into the accident that left her with permanent tears trailing down her cheek.

"I'm not entirely sure," she said. She couldn't see Jacin's face, but she could feel the rapid beating of his heart in his chest, and it held enough emotion within itself for Winter to know what he was feeling. "It was just weeks after my mother passed, and Levana was watching me while my father was at work. We were at my house, which was then just a small, disorderly thing. I remember a sharp pain on the back of my head, then waking up at the doctor's as they stitched up my cheek. They told me that this great glass pot had fallen from a shelf and hit me in the back of the head. Then I fell to the ground, cutting up my face. The whole thing is mostly one big blur."

"Did Levana..." Jacin swallowed.

"I don't know," Winter said, part laugh. "In all honesty, it wasn't something that crossed my mind until a time later, when I was older and a better judge of her character. And when I realized that it would be quite difficult to have perfectly straight scars running down one's cheek from a fall."

"But," Winter continued, whispering now. "My father, who never loved that woman, married her before my stitches were even removed. I had to wear a great big bandage at their wedding."

"Blackmail?"

"I don't think we'll ever know," Winter sighed, blinking rapidly and looking up at Jacin.

"What about Aimery. How did that... happen?"

Winter sighed, but did not remove herself from Jacin's arms. "Well, you see, Aimery has been after my hand for a number of years now— since I was about seventeen."

Jacin looked appalled, eyes wide and mouth twisted in disgust. "But he looks to be nearly twice your age."

"He's not too far off. I believe he was in the military when he was still young, and didn't really settle down; he wanted more power, more money. That's why he's so intense— always carries a gun, even when we're just going into town or something silly. But then he got into bonds and made his fortune. He started coming around years ago, but I never thought of accepting his proposal."

"What changed?"

A small smile pulled at the edges of her lips, and she felt her heart grow heavy as she said, "My father died."

" _Ah_ ," Jacin sighed, cringing, his eyes pulling at the corners.

They were on the floor in the alcove. It was dim, only lit by a chandelier out and away. There was next to no noise in the small place, despite them being only a curtain away from the possibility of people. Almost everyone was asleep by now, tucked into their beds for a restful night.

But Winter didn't feel like sleeping— she was electrified. She and Jacin had kissed; then they had kissed some more, and some more, and some more, until neither one could remember what their names were, let alone how to breathe. And now her lips were numb with the sensation, and swollen to the touch. Her hair had completely abandoned its braided form and frizzed about her face maddeningly.

Jacin's arms were about her in a way that made her feel safe— it was almost terrifying, knowing that this was a man that she did not have to fear. She had not known one of that making in far too long—at least not in this sort of capacity. He was not Aimery, who wanted to control every detail of her life. He was Jacin, who she had known for days, but her soul would love forever.

She couldn't bear to think of what would happen when Levana and Aimery discovered that she no longer had any intention of marrying her betrothed, so she didn't. She allowed for herself to relax into the happy dream that was being with Jacin. For with him, there was no fear in the world, nor worries to contort one's happiness. There was only an ever-trembling thrill of knowing that all was right at last.

Her eyes wandered about the room, then landed on her portrait. It was strange to see herself, not in a mirror, but forever frozen in time. She pulled herself away from Jacin and grabbed the drawing.

He leaned against the wall, draping an arm over her shoulder as she sat down beside him once more. His lips rested against her forehead as she examined the drawing once more, her fingers unable to help but touch the chalky image of herself.

She was amazed at the detail of the work, and how it captured her spirit rather than her mortal form, with stars flying about her, and color decorating her clothes and the very air she breathed. It was magnificent; enough so to bring tears to her eyes.

"You know," Winter said, a smile twisting her lips. "I first discovered Cinder and Kai in a situation much like this."

Jacin flinched, and Winter laughed as he pulled away from her. She caught him though, before he could escape, mischief in her grin.

"Oh I know you're not fond of Cinder. I can't understand why though, seeing how the two of you are rather quite similar. Perhaps that's it. But never mind that," Winter said. "I remember walking into the library at the Prince's home, and just stopping right in my tracks, unable to process the two of them kissing. Then they broke apart, all embarrassed, but with the more absurdly happy expressions written upon their faces.

"Of course I knew that Cinder was in love with Kai— she had been for years, though she lived in denial of it. But she was engaged to Carswell Thorne. I'd never known anyone to break off an engagement before. At least not personally. It was oh-so scandalous. But it was right."

Jacin's eyes flickered between her own, analyzing her words. She couldn't help but memorize the shade of those eyes— blue; they were the shade of ice, frosting around the edges, even in the dim light.

"And this is right," Winter whispered, leaning in close. Her forehead pressed against Jacin's and all that she would see were his eyes, piercing and fierce. "I've not known you for nearly as long, but there's just something about you. You're _right_."

Their lips met again. But this kiss was slow, filled not with passion, but understanding. It was a kiss to last through eternity with its slow burning flame— an unquenchable fire. And perhaps the kiss would have gone on forever, if not for the sudden shuddering of the ship.

"What was that?" Winter asked, pulling back just enough for a breath to come between them.

"I don't know."

"Did you feel that?"

"It was rather strange," Jacin replied, his brow furrowing. "I've never felt such a thing upon a ship. Granted, I haven't been on many ships."

"Me neither," Winter laughed, pressing a kiss to Jacin's cheek.

"Should we perhaps go out and see what it is?"

"I'm sure it's nothing," Winter responded, her hand tilting his head back so as to get a better angle to kiss his jaw. "Probably just the engine jittering."

Jacin said nothing in return, but held perfectly still as Winter's lips trailed down his face. Hardly a breath escaped him, as if he feared that his breathing would frighten her away.

Some minutes later—for time did not exist in this place—a commotion sounded outside the alcove, and Winter grunted in frustration. She pulled back, gritting her teeth, and glared at the curtain that blocked them from the world. Jacin only laughed at her agitation, which somehow made her more furious, but somewhat pleased as well.

"What could possibly be going on?" Winter asked.

"Why don't we go see," Jacin said.

He grabbed her hand, and together, they left their little haven. Winter grabbed the portrait he had done of her, folding it up and tucking it into her dress pocket for safe keeping.

When the curtain no longer obscured their view, they saw people, rushing about in every direction, completely frantic. There weren't many, but as the seconds stretched on, more came. Hushed words echoed throughout the halls, chanting the same thing: the ship was sinking.

"It has to be some silly rumor," Jacin said, though there was fear in his eyes. "This is the great _unsinkable ship_. I'm quite positive that means it _can't sink_."

"Why would we be sinking? Winter asked, ignoring his trail of thought. "How is that even possible? Do you think the ship is under attack by– by pirates or something?"

Jacin blinked at her, all the fear leaving his eyes only to be replaced by amusement. She bumped his shoulder with her own and rolled her eyes, never releasing his hand as she did so.

"I don't think that there are any pirates," Jacin mocked, not unkindly. "Perhaps the engine has simply given out."

A woman rushed past them, carrying a screaming baby in her arms and dragging a toddler by the hand. Her cheeks were ruddy and her chest heaving as she ran about, searching for somewhere to go. But where was one to go on a ship?

Nowhere.

"We need to find out what's going on," Jacin said, his brow furrowing once more. His hand squeezed Winter's. She licked her lips. There was so much happening about them with people calling out to one another and running in every which way. Some wore only pajamas, while others had half a dozen layers upon their person.

"We need to find Cinder and Kai," Winter said, turning to Jacin in a panic. "They were asleep hours ago. They might not wake if something's wrong. We need to make sure–"

Jacin nodded, and without letting her finish her hurried speech, he pulled her in the direction of Cinder and Kai's room. They pushed through the ever-growing crowds, past sleepy adults and frightened children. They ran, linked together by sweaty fingers and racing hearts.

They made it to the room fast, shoving past a particularly snobby group of people who were grumbling about the ridiculousness of the whole thing. Without wasting an instant, Jacin began to pound upon the door to Cinder and Kai's room. Winter joined in, yelling as their knuckles hit upon the wood.

Mere seconds passed before the door swung open to reveal Kai. His hair was disheveled, but his eyes were bright and awake. He was dressed in day-wear, with multiple coats piled atop one another. Behind him, Cinder was pulling on a lavender overcoat with the help of Rikan Prince.

"You're awake," Winter gasped, leaning against the doorframe as she tried to catch her breath. "I was worried... wasn't sure you would hear."

"My father was out for a late night stroll," Kai said, glancing back at his dad and wife. "He was out on the deck when we hit it."

"Hit what?" Jacin asked, all seriousness.

"The iceberg," Kai swallowed. He was calm as ever, but there was something almost frantic in his gaze. It was frightening to see him like this—Kai, the most level-headed person that Kai knew. He was the one who never panicked, or lost his cool. He was the one who's true emotions one could never see; it was what made him, according to Aimery, such a great politician. But the mask was gone, and Winter knew—for if Kai were afraid, they were all doomed.

"Dad saw as the ship knocked into it— barely nicked her, really. But the captain told him. The captain told him," Kai repeated, his hand reaching up to rub behind his ear.

"What, Kai?" Winter asked, taking hold of Kai's hand. "What did that captain tell your father?"

"That," Rikan said, making an appearance by Kai's side. He had one arm looped through Cinder's. He placed a hand on his son's shoulder, and immediately all the tension left Kai's body. Winter hadn't even realize just how tense Kai was. But Rikan's eyes burned into hers as he said, " _The ship is sinking._ "


	11. A Nightmare

There were sounds, but they didn't make sense. There were words falling from mouths, and the flutter of light as people bustled about, but none of it seemed to exist; not really. Because this all had to be a dream, every last bit of it.

Jacin had once heard that people couldn't remember the start of their dreams, always winding up somewhere in the middle. But that had to be wrong. Because he had fallen asleep out on the deck of the ship, laying on that bench. And in his dream Winter Hayle had come to him. That was where the dream started. But now, after all the bliss of this marvelous work of the mind, things were starting to fall apart. This dream had become a nightmare— but Jacin wasn't waking up.

Somehow, he himself was talking, saying words that meant something to the ears they met, but nothing to his own brain. The world had slowed down and sped up, out of control, screaming four words on repeat: _the ship is sinking._

"...life jackets on the deck of the ship," Rikan said, wrapping his own coat around Jacin's shoulders. Not a moment later, he was out the door, walking away from the group of them before Jacin could even protest the kindness.

"I don't know where my mother's off to," Cinder said, worrying at her lip. "I'm sure she's heard the news, but I'd much rather know where she is. I don't want to lose her."

Kai gave her a half-hearted smile, taking her hand in his own. "Don't fret, love," Kai said. He brushed the hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear. "We'll find her before anything happens. I bet you my father will stumble upon her as he's looking for life jackets."

He then turned to Winter, still leaned against the doorframe, though perhaps more from shock than fatigue now. "Have you checked for Levana, or, um," Kai glanced at Winter and Jacin's intertwined fingers, his cheeks tinting pink. "Perhaps, Aimery."

"No," Winter hissed, giving Kai a most irate glare.

"Alright then," Kai said, wincing. "I just wanted to make sure. The ship is sinking, after all."

Jacin wanted to say "so what," but withheld it. There was no need for him to express his opinion on Aimery at the moment— they had more pressing matters to worry about.

A coat was wrapped around Winter's shoulders, and in another instant, the four of them were rushing to the ship's main deck without another word whispered between them.

There were so many people; of course Jacin knew that there were thousands upon the Titanic, but he'd never really realized it until that moment, as hundreds poured out onto the main deck. They were yelling and crying and whispering in small groups. There were children and old people and normal adults. But above all, no matter the age or identification of a person, there was fear. It swirled about like a poisonous fog, infecting all who gathered round.

Kai led them through the masses, though Jacin wasn't entirely sure where he was going. Jacin held up the rear of the group, holding onto Winter's hand, who in turn held onto Cinder who held onto Kai. They were like a snake, weaving through the throngs of people—in search of their own. And though he was a creature who preferred solitude and independence, he was glad for the leadership of another and the companionship of these almost-strangers as the world came to a stumbling crash.

On the outside, he was stony as ever. His face would never betray him. But inside he was a blaze of panic. The ship was sinking; they could all die in a matter of hours, his frozen body laying still against the floor of the Atlantic. He had never liked the cold, and the idea of that being his end sent a spike of fear into his heart.

"Father," Kai called out, pulling the whole group toward Rikan. He stood beside Channary Blackburn, patting her back and clearly uncomfortable as she sobbed into a handkerchief.

The snake chain reached the pair, relief lighting both sets of eyes. Rikan clapped Kai on the back and Channary threw her arms around Cinder, tears running down her face and cutting tracks through her make-up. It was strange how even as her eyes puffed and her features clouded, she was still a beautiful creature.

"The ship is sinking," Channary wailed, extracting herself from Cinder's arms to blow her nose rather noisily. "We are all going to die. We're all going to drown and be gone for good. It's the–"

Cinder clapped a hand over her mother's mouth and took in a deep breath. Channary mirrored her, shutting her eyes tight and dabbing at them with her handkerchief. Within a matter of moments, the hysterical woman was completely herself— or at least not her more bedraggled self that is.

"There seems to be a shortage of lifejackets," Rikan said, holding up three white flotation devices. "And on lifeboats as well. They're ordering the women and children on first. I don't think the ship is well-equipped for this sort of disaster."

Kai nodded as his father spoke, then handed one of the lifejackets to Winter, one to Channary, and held the last one up for Cinder to slide into, though she did with much protestation.

Winter accepted the jacket graciously, dropping Jacin's hand as she put it on. Then she turned to Jacin, her eyes wide. He gently took the bindings of the device and tied them tight, securing the lifejacket to her frame. When he was done, she leaned her face close to his and pressed a kiss to his lips, soft and delicate and sure.

"I'm not going to leave you," she whispered as they broke apart. Her arms were around his neck, but all he could feel was the cork of her life preserver. "I won't get onto one of those lifeboats unless you're standing there beside me."

Jacin grunted in response. He didn't much fancy sinking to the bottom of the Atlantic, but despised the idea of Winter freezing in the ocean. It tore at his very heart and soul.

It was quite out of the ordinary for him to have feelings for another person— never before had he held so strong an affection for another living soul. But he loved Winter. There was no other way to state it, for that was all it was. He'd loved so little in his life, caring only for his parents, and occasionally for dear friends, though those were far and few between.

They broke apart without another word, and watched as Cinder glared at Kai with such contempt that Jacin felt as if he had just stumbled in upon a private moment. She had her arms folded over her chest— over the lifejacket— her cheeks aflame and eyes bright. Kai looked uncomfortable, but whispered comforting words to her all the while. Jacin watched as Kai placed a hand over Cinder's stomach, as his other hand swiped at a tear upon her cheek.

Winter let out a gasp beside him as she came to the same conclusion that he had. Jacin had to turn away, unable to look at the other couple during this private moment.

"I didn't realize," Winter mumbled, rubbing beneath her eyes. "But, oh–" Winter sighed. "It makes so much sense. It's– it's–"

Jacin pulled her to him as she let out a soft sob. Nothing had happened yet, and already everyone was falling apart. People rushed past them in a flutter of panicked voices and ill-fitting lifejackets. The sinking of the ship was a slow process as of now, but he knew that soon everything would go to hell.

Rikan seemed to realize this at the same moment as Jacin. "We need to find a lifeboat. Get those we can onto it and–" Rikan's face pinched as he looked at his son. "We'll figure things out from there."

Fireworks lit the sky in a bright array of color, but no one paused to look up. People were screaming and children were crying and all had become absolute chaos. There was nowhere to turn, nowhere to run, and no one there to save them.

They somehow managed to stick together as they made their way toward the lifeboats, despite not holding on to one another in a great chain. Jacin's hand rested firmly in Winter's, their fingers squeezed and wrists beating rapid heartbeats against one another.

Hordes of people gathered around each lifeboat, all with a look of desperation in their eyes. White puffs of air swirled around them, along with the distant sound of a violinist. People talked and people cried, but Jacin and Winter stayed silent, taking comfort in the simple presence of one another. He felt less afraid knowing that she was beside him— that she wanted to be there. But there was also that nagging knowledge that he needed for her to get onto a lifeboat; he couldn't let her drown. He couldn't let her freeze. He couldn't let her die.

Their group moved up through the hordes until they neared the railing. Suddenly, Jacin remembered the portrait of the old main, stowed away in his pocket— the picture of the man who had given Jacin the ticket. A ticket of death sure, but Jacin had a promise to keep, dead or alive.

"Channary," Jacin said, pulling out the scrap of paper and thrusting it in her hand. He no longer bothered to be formal or polite with her, but she did not seem to care.

"What, sugar?" She asked, swiping at her eyes.

"I need you to take this to a girl named Darnel. Crescent Moon Darnel. She lives in the states," Jacin explained, his eyes intense and his words rushed. "I made a promise that this portrait would be delivered..."

"I'll keep it safe for the time being," Channary sniffed. "Until a rescue ship comes, or..." She trailed off, her face paling as she thought of all the many possibilities the night had in store for Jacin.

"Thank you," Jacin said, nodding his head gratefully.

They were next to board the lifeboat— at least, the women were. Winter held fast to Jacin's hand, and he feared that he would have to sever her hand from her body before getting her onto that lifeboat.

"Winter," Jacin hissed, looking at her intently. She glared back at him, her eyes narrowing in a way that expressed betrayal.

"I told you, I won't get on unless the two of us stick together."

"Winter, that's not how it works," Jacin growled. "You have to get on. They'll fill up all these boats so soon, and I'm not going to be the reason that you drown."

"You jump, I jump, remember?" Winter said, scrubbing angrily at the tears on her cheeks. "I will not get on one of those lifeboats without you by my side, do you hear? You can't force me. I swear on all the stars."

"Winter–"

"I'm staying with you whether you like it or not," Winter stomped her foot down upon the deck. "I will get on a lifeboat with you, or I will freeze in the icy depths of the ocean. It is my decision, and you will not be making it for me."

"Okay," Jacin whispered. And as he said it, he almost felt relieved. He didn't want her to die— but he didn't want her to leave him. It was almost selfish, save for his vow that he would not let her drown in the icy water. If there was one lifeboat left, he would make sure she got on it no matter what.

"It will all be okay," Winter breathed, kissing him quickly before breaking away.

A man gestured for the women to get into the raft, but Cinder wasn't having it. Kai kept his voice low as he told her comforting things— that he would meet her there, or that another ship would come and save them— but she wouldn't listen.

"I'm not getting on without you," Cinder cried, breaking down completely. It was strange to see a woman such as Cinder cry so openly. The overall effect was almost as frightening as the ship sinking.

"I won't, Kai. Dammit, I won't get on there without you, you– you bastard!" Cinder wrapped her arms around his neck tight, bringing her splotched face close to his. "I swear on all the stars, Kaito, I will not leave you on this ship. Do you hear me?"

Kai's eyes held a world of pain as they looked down into his wife's. It was a sort of misery that one only knew if they had felt it— a pain that would never be alleviated.

"Okay," Kai choked on the word, giving his head a nod. "Okay."

Cinder sucked in a breath, then wrapped her arms around Kai's neck and kissed him with a passion. Kai kissed her back, tears flowing down his cheeks as he clutched her in his arms. When they broke apart, Cinder laid her head on his shoulder. But Kai did not ease against Cinder, rather looking out through hazy eyes past his wife and at Channary Blackburn. She was mere feet from them, perched inside the boat, watching the pair with a calculating gaze.

With sudden speed, Kai picked Cinder up by the waist, and in the next moment Channary's arms were around her daughter, clutching her tight to her chest.

Seconds later, the crew began to lower the lifeboat to the depths of the sea. Cinder screamed with a might unknown to mankind, fighting tooth and nail against her mother, but two other women had grabbed hold of her, preventing Cinder from an escape.

" _Kai_ ," Cinder wailed, reaching a hand up toward Kai. " _Kai, you promised! You promised me we'd be together,_ " Cinder sobbed, her whole body shaking. " _Kai!_ "

"I'm sorry," was all Kai said in response, silent tears trailing down his cheeks as his wife yelled at him. He sunk to his knees, his hand limply reaching in Cinder's direction as he leaned against the metal rails of the ship.

Cinder's cries filled the night air, calling hatred but ringing of heartbreak. It was a complete agony that made the very stars in the sky break and fall.

Kai watched mutely as the boat made it into the water, then began to float away with only Cinder's sobs piercing the night air. He watched, and Jacin and Winter watched him, and all of them said nothing. Because what was left for them to say?

After a time, Kai swiped his eyes clear and turned away from the sea. He no longer looked like the man that Jacin had met just the day before, but someone different— someone with nothing but unimaginable pain.

Rikan wrapped an arm around his son's shoulder and steered him away from the ship railing. A final volley of fireworks lit the sky above them, but Jacin couldn't tear his eyes away from Kai. All he could hear were Cinder's final screams—her pleas for Kai to not abandon her.

"She will be just fine, Kai," Rikan said. "You did what you had to do."

Kai made no show that he had heard, but continued to stare blankly out toward the sea. Jacin couldn't help but gaze out as well, wondering what was out there, but knowing that it wasn't salvation.

They fought their way through throngs of people, though this fight was more melancholy than their previous chain. It was slow and sad despite the fact that two of their party had made it off the sinking ship.

Rikan led the group back inside the ship, and though Jacin did not know why, he followed. Things were suddenly warmer, and not half as loud as the ruckus on the deck. There were few people, and none of them appeared to be in a hurry to reach a lifeboat. In fact, all who were left inside were quite calm, wrapped in the arms of one another or holding hands or just sitting side by side as they stared out at the world.

Fear struck Jacin's chest, and he worried that Rikan had decided for all of them that they would die that night. But as the older man led Kai to a couch, Jacin realized that Rikan's choice had not been one of death, but one of leaving an overwhelming situation.

Kai collapsed on the couch, covering his face in his hands as his whole body shook. Jacin couldn't watch, though Winter moved to sit beside her old friend, muttering comforting things to him as he lost all of his careful composure. 

Within minutes, Kai regained his dignity, returning to the emotionless version of himself— the one who had watched silently as the girl in the lavender coat descended into the night. It was not the boy that Jacin had known, but rather all that was left of him. It was as if a piece of him had gone down in that lifeboat with Cinder—the part of him that was happy and kind and distinctly Kai. Perhaps that was what became of one who had loved so fiercely when the object of their love was taken: the complete abandonment of one's self.

Like a father to them all rather than one, Rikan checked on the three of them, making sure that all parties were adequately taken care of. Kai stood, nodding his head solemnly at his father as the other two did.

"I am going to go retrieve lifejackets for us men," Rikan said, straightening his coat. "I shall return shortly. Just stay here."

Rikan squeezed Kai's arm, a fatherly gesture that made Jacin ache for his own dad. His father, who he had gotten on the sinking ship to see. If Jacin went down with the ship, his father would never even know, for it was Darnel's name on his ticket. He would be lost forever, and not a soul would know.

When the older man left, the three of them sunk down upon the couch in silence. Winter grabbed hold of Jacin's hand, biting her lip as she stared at Kai. She looked as if she wanted to say something to him, but before she got the chance, a voice spoke out from behind them.

"Winter," a man called, and Winter froze. Her fingers tightened around Jacin's and her eyes widened with terror as the three of them turned to look upon a man who appeared as a nightmare: Aimery Park.


	12. Red World

Everything was cold once again, as if the sun had died and left the little lonely people to fend for themselves in the darkness. The air hung with crystals of ice, poised to fall upon them and destroy all that was living about them. Winter herself had once again become a girl of ice and frosted fingertips, unable to move as she stared at the man she despised.

Though it had been mere hours since she’s seen him, it felt like years— for in the time since their departure Winter had experienced lifetimes of happiness. But it all seemed to melt away, even as Jacin squeezed her hand. For how could she feel him when she was numb?

“Aimery,” Kai choked out, startling Winter. But of course Kai could always be counted on to stand up for others, even as he lay shattered upon the ground. He stood on her other side, though she had forgotten that he was there. Actually, she had been transported into a world that was just her and Aimery Park— a world where only the wretched resided. “Aimery, I think it would be for the best if you were to leave.”

“Don’t tell me what to do, Prince,” Aimery snarled, his black eyes glinting with a sort of malice that Winter had never before seen. "You and your pompous father think they can just tell everyone what to do. And you know what? I'm done playing nice."

"She doesn't care for you, Aimery," Kai said, and Winter was grateful for his words. For they were the truth, even if she couldn't find the courage to say them on her own. "Stop the humiliation here. Let go. We have bigger things to worry about at the moment."

“Just because your whore of a wife left her fiancé for you doesn’t mean I’m going to let mine do the same," Aimery hissed, his hands curling with restrained violence. "I will not be made to look a fool.”

Within an instant Kai was moving forward, his cheeks flaming and eyes ablaze. But before he could take two steps, Jacin yanked him back, slinging an arm around Kai as he struggled tooth and nail to get to Winter's despised fiancé.

Aimery let out a malicious laugh, his lips twisting up in a wicked grin as he watched Kai fight his captor. Winter had always known Aimery to be a man of cowardice and cruelty, but never towards one such as Kai, who, despite his kindness, had power of his own. It was almost dangerous to watch as Aimery descended to belittling those of his same status.

He looked around mockingly, his eyes mapping Winter, then the two other men, though it was clear that this search was only for show. “Oh dear, I must have struck a nerve. Has lovely Selene left you already? Guys like you never learn. If she’s willing to leave one, she’s willing to leave you as well. That’s just the way those whores are.”

Kai shouted a string of profanities colorful enough to make a sailor blush, though Aimery only laughed.

“Oh dear,” Aimery tutted. “Anger is not a good color on you, my friend.”

“Shove it, Aimery,” Jacin growled, speaking for the first time. His arms were still tight around Kai’s shoulders, though the other man’s anger seemed to be wilting fast into devastation.

“Oh, the American Hobo speaks,” Aimery cajoled, taking a step forward. “And I thought all you were good for was painting pretty things.”

“Aimery,” Winter hissed, snapping out of her world filled with ice and cold. She was needed here— there was no time for her to get lost in her fear and abandon those who depended upon her. “What do you want?”

“Only your safety, my snowflake,” Aimery sneered. He extended a hand toward Winter. “I wish to see you safely upon a lifeboat. Not everyone is going to get off this ship alive, you know.”

Winter’s stomach churned with terror as she thought of all that Aimery would do to get his way. As much as she hated to admit it, Aimery scared Winter in a way that only monsters terrified the young. He was as creepy as a creature under one’s bed and, but more frightening in the fact that he was in no way fictitious. He would do all in his power to assure himself that Winter was his, even if her very heart screamed at his approach.

“Worry for your own safety, Aimery,” Winter said in a cool manner, masking all the turmoil of her soul. “If I get upon a lifeboat, it will not be your doing, and it most assuredly won’t be by your side.”

She turned to Jacin and Kai, her heart breaking as she saw the wetness on Kai’s cheeks and the worry in Jacin’s eyes. Though Jacin’s arms were still clutching at Kai’s shoulders, there was little need. All his anger had seemingly disappeared, morphing back into the face of infinite grief.

“You can’t just leave me like that,” Aimery grinned, though it was more of a twitch than anything else. “You don’t get to walk away, Winter Hayle. You don’t get to be the one who leaves me standing here.”

“We need to leave,” Winter whispered, her voice just loud enough for Jacin and Kai to hear.

“But Rikan–” Jacin hissed, but Winter shook her head.

“We can go find him, but we can’t stay here with Aimery. He’s–”

“What are you three all whispering about?” Aimery yelled, storming forward. He shoved Winter to the ground, pointing his finger in Jacin’s face as his entire body seemed to ignite with a raging fire.

“Hey!” Jacin shouted, releasing his hold on Kai and shoving at Aimery’s chest. Within an instant his hand was extended toward Winter and he pulled her up and behind him. “Don’t you dare touch her,” he growled. “She made her choice. Now you have to respect that.”

“Oh, and I’m just supposed to bow down to some sloppy-haired artist who lives on the streets? You think you can take away what’s rightfully mine?”

“I’m not a piece of property, Aimery,” Winter growled, shoving past Jacin. “I don’t love you, Aimery. I don’t want you. I will never choose you. So please– please just let it go. Save yourself and forget about me. I know I won’t be thinking about you.”

Aimery’s nostril flared, and for a moment Winter worried that he was going to hit her. But he simply straightened his suit jacket with an over-exaggerated gesture and backed away. “Fine,” he said, his features schooled into a look of near-nonchalance. “Fine. You can go to your watery grave for all I care. Do as you please, _Winter_.”

A feeling of cold rushed down Winter’s spine— there was something about the way he watched her, as if he intended to stare at her until she disappeared forever. It was the gaze of a predator mapping out the movements of its prey.

With a curt nod to Aimery, Winter turned to face Jacin, her jaw set despite the trembling of her entire body. Never before had she stood up to anyone in this capacity. In all the times she’d imagined speaking to Aimery or Levana in such a way she’d always thought there would be a sense of liberation following it. But somehow, all she could feel was a growing ball of anxiety, tearing at her insides the longer she stayed near her once-fiancé.

“Let’s go,” Winter hissed, slipping her hand into Jacin’s. He looked as if he wanted to rush over and sock Aimery in the jaw, but he nodded gently as he lowered his eyes to Winter’s.

“Kai?” Winter turned her gaze upon her cousin’s husband as he stood and brushed himself off, his eyes still glazed from Cinder’s screams or Aimery’s insults she knew not. He did not face her, but rather stood looking at Aimery with a sort of brokenhearted contempt.

Not daring to look back on her ex-fiancé, Winter strode away, hand in hand with Jacin. But before she could make it more than a few steps, she heard Kai shout at the top of his lungs and the scramble of his feet upon the ground followed by the sound of a deafening blast. Winter whirled around just in time to see Kai collapse on the floor, somehow closer to Aimery than he had been before, dark blood staining his coat.

Within an instant, Jacin was upon Aimery, knocking the gun— _the gun_ that Winter had seen so many times strapped at his belt— out of his hands. He slammed his fists into Aimery’s face until he, too, collapsed to the ground in a heap.

Winter rushed to Kai’s side, falling to her knees and pressing her hands against the wound. Already there was blood pooling beneath him in a sea of crimson, turning her blue dress to black though Winter did not notice or care.

“Kai,” Winter sobbed, her entire body shaking as she tried in vain to staunch the bleeding. “Kai, please.”

Kai stared at something over Winter’s shoulder, a hazy grin forming on his lips. His eyes drooped though he did not blink as he watched in wonder at whatever angel or demon hung above Winter.

“Winter?” Called a voice from afar. A sickening feeling of falling into an endless abyss overcame her as she heard Rikan Prince call her name then his son’s, his voice growing urgent as he dropped the lifejackets in his arms and rushed toward the pair of them.

It was almost surprising how much blood there was. Winter could hardly fathom the way it puddled beneath Kai and seeped into his clothing from the small hole in his chest. She knew that he had been shot, but none of it made any sense. One minute they had been leaving and the next Kai was on the ground.

“Kai… my son… Kai…” Rikan sobbed, burying his face in Kai’s neck. Never before had Winter seen him in such a state. The calm, collected politician losing his mind as his son bled out on the floor.

“Cinder...” Kai breathed, the name barely audible as it passed his lips. He was staring past his father as if he couldn’t see him. His eyes were clouded, but not with pain— rather, a sort of joy seemed to fill his soul as he stared at a girl who wasn’t there.

The dying boy raised his arm up as if to reach for something—someone. But his strength failed him within a matter of moments and his hand fell back down upon his bleeding chest. He coughed, blood spraying past his lips as his rattling breaths consumed his whole being.

A hand touched Winter’s back, and Jacin knelt beside her. He didn’t say anything or argue as Winter turned her body against his, leaving blood on his clothes as she clutched at him. Jacin didn’t move to help Kai, even as he whispered the name of his love between aching breaths, and that was a sign all on its own. For what was there to be done? They were all dying after all. It was just a matter of time before they all sunk beneath the waves of the sea, alone and forgotten forever.

But it was the dying itself that seemed to ache. It was different with one of them so near the pearly gates or whatever came after life while the others still had time— still had an opportunity. It was one thing to die together, suffocating against the inevitable cold, and another to watch the light fade out of one who had once glowed so bright. To know that he would be forgotten upon this night, marked as one of many victims rather than one who saved those he loved was a kind of agony all on its own.

“Cin…” Kai exhaled, his lips twisted up as a line of blood trickled from his nose. Winter waited for him to finish the word— to say the final syllable. But he never did.

Rikan cried with an agony that crushed one's bones and broke the hearts of the gods as he clutched the boy with glassy eyes to his chest. It was a wailing that never seemed to end— a crying that couldn’t end, for even the sobs of forever could not express the pain felt.

Winter thought of Cinder, the girl that had left them not even an hour before— the one who had cried as she was separated from her love. The one who didn’t know that her husband was dead. And suddenly it all felt like too much; it all became real. They were on a ship that was sinking— they would all be dead soon enough.

As if sensing her thoughts, the ship suddenly lurched. Winter watched as the world seemed to tilt. People screamed on the outside, and Jacin’s arms somehow managed to hold her tighter. “We need to get out of here,” he whispered.

She looked up at him, but all she could see was the red on her hands. The world had become crimson, and she had to shut her eyes as blood seemed to ooze from the walls of the ship. She was in a place of death— a place of blood— and all would be lost before long.

“Winter,” Jacin hissed, tilting her face up to look at him. There was a spot of blood on his face, though whether it was from Kai or whatever Jacin had done to Aimery Winter did not know, nor did she want to know. But despite the red world, his eyes were still the brightest blue of a summer sky. And she knew that no matter the blood spilled at midnight, the sun would still rise upon the morning, lighting the world with that brilliant blue that meant hope.

“But Rikan–”

“I don’t think there’s any use in trying to get him to come with us,” Jacin grimaced. “He has already died upon this night.”

Winter searched his eyes but found only the misery of truth in them. She despised the idea of leaving Rikan— but she knew from Evret Hayle the pure love that a father could have for their child. Slowly, she nodded, separating herself from Jacin and moving to kneel beside Rikan. Without hesitating, she pressed a kiss to his cheek, whispering a few words of comfort.

Then she took Jacin’s hand and they ran.


	13. Alone in the Night

If Jacin had thought the screaming of before had been wretched, the cries of the night were now filled with the hellish sobs of the damned. There were people upon the ground as if they had forgotten the troubles of the night. There were others who were calling out to those lost to them. And then there were the ones who were running. It was with them and Jacin and Winter took their stride.

The ship was tilting— not in a particularly fast manner, at least not yet, but the experience was still rather frightening. They were going down, and there was nothing that anyone could do to stop it. Jacin had hoped to get Winter onto a lifeboat, but between their confrontation with Aimery and Kai's death, time had bled dry. Their only hope now was... well, Jacin didn't know.

A flash of red hair caught Jacin's eye, and in the next moment Scarlet Benoit grabbed onto Winter, somehow stealing her away from Jacin. He felt his very bones cry out as he hand slipped from his own.

"Have you seen Ze'ev?" Scarlet screamed at Winter, shaking her by the shoulders. "Have you seen my Ze'ev? Wolf? Do you know where he is?"

"I'm sorry, I–"

"We got separated. I haven't seen him since the ship hit the ice. I don't know where he is. I don't know where he is. Do you know where he is?" Scarlet brought her face up close to Winter's. "Oh God, I don't know where he is. Please, _please_ tell me where he is."

"I haven't seen him," Winter whispered.

Scarlet released Winter and collapsed upon the ship deck, head in her hands as she sobbed. It was horrible to watch someone in such a manner, broken and lost. But as much as Jacin wanted to help, his first priority was Winter— and if leaving this girl behind meant saving Winter, he wouldn't hesitate.

"Winter," Jacin said, his voice barely heard above the screams of the lost and dying. There was a violin still playing some sad melody off in the distance, though it was all alone in the night, making for the single sound of creation in a night of destruction. It called to his soul in the way that all artists are beckoned toward beauty, making him long to feel the vibrations of it in his bones. "Winter, we have to get out of here."

"But Scarlet–"

"There's nothing we can do for her."

Jacin hated himself. He hated that he had abandoned Rikan, one of the few people who had shown him any sort of kindness upon the ship. He absolutely despised that Kai had died for him, because Jacin knew that Aimery's gun had been trained on him and not the other boy. It tore at his very soul to remember the two Prince men and how he couldn't save them. He ached to know that this girl, too, would be doomed. But he would do whatever it took to ensure Winter's safety.

Never before had he imagined himself a man of cruelty. Of course he had never been one so inclined as to give kindness out easily, but he'd always been a man of honor— one who would help when it was needed. But this night alone had proven one thing: there were unspeakable things that Jacin Clay was capable of, beginning with his destruction Aimery Park and ending with the abandonment of Scarlet Benoit.

Winter wrapped her arms around the girl, looking at Jacin defiantly as she did so. She whispered something past the mass of red hair that only seemed to make Scarlet cry harder.

"No," Scarlet sobbed. "No. Leave me here. Leave me here. Let me to the sea— allow it to swallow me up and carry me home. Leave me. _Leave me_."

Gingerly, Winter placed a kiss on the girl's forehead in much the same way she had with Rikan Prince, then rose to her feet, taking Jacin's hand.

They ran, and it was as if they were traveling back in time, retracing their footsteps as they raced toward the stern of the ship. It was the place where Jacin had slept under the stars— the place where Jacin and Winter had first met just days before. The bench upon which Jacin had lain mere hours ago caught in his vision as the pair rushed against the bodies to make it to the ship's railing.

Despite the scores of people and the great tilting of the deck, they somehow managed to slip past them all, climbing to the railing. They slid beneath the bars, Jacin holding onto Winter to make sure she did not fall into the water below. He almost felt like laughing as the irony of it all hit him, but he couldn't allow himself to sink into hysteria— not when he had to make sure Winter was okay.

The ship continued to tilt, and Jacin wondered if it would be a complete nose-dive in just as all the lights on the ship flickered out and a great snapping sound roared. Before he could even register what was happening, the stern began to fall backwards toward the sea, having broken nearly clean in half from the bow.

Winter screamed in terror, her body pressed close to his. He could not feel the warmth of her, either due to the coldness of the night or the lifejacket covering her he did not know. With a sinking feeling, Jacin realized that he had not grabbed one of the life preservers that Rikan had acquired. Of course he had put them to good use where Aimery was concerned, but now that he was about to be dunked into the great unknown he wished he had grabbed one for himself.

With an incredible splash, the stern of the ship slapped against the sea, sending dozens into the icy water below and terrified screams into the blackness. Jacin kept his arm linked through Winter's, not daring to hold her hand for fear they would both fall, but reassuring himself all the same that she was still there with him.

For an instant, all was okay as their end of the ship rested level with the water. Then the tilting picked up once again, though this time they rose into the sky with an almost frightening speed. For the bow had not broken off cleanly from the ship, and the sunken half was dragging the half that Jacin and Winter had found refuge on down to a fast-coming watery grave. Though he had known that this could be the only end for the ship, it somehow still managed to surprise him.

As the stern turned toward the stars, Winter looked at Jacin. And while there was fear in her eyes, there was also a sort of wonder as she pointed her face toward an endless sky of wishes and a brilliant crescent moon. Before leaving America, Jacin had sat upon a Ferris Wheel, having gone to an art fair with his friend Liam and his sister. The girl had dragged the two of them onto the contraption despite Jacin's protests, and while Liam had moaned about the height as the wheel teetered toward the sky, Jacin had only been able to wonder at the world from above. It was much the same feeling now, except somehow it felt more like flying— though perhaps that was because Winter was by his side.

Screams like shattering glass filled the night as the stern pointed directly into the sky like a beacon of hope, standing straight and tall and still. Some holding onto the railings fell, their bodies hitting metal with the sickening crunch of bones. Others cried out for help, the primal urge to beg for the aid of another unceasing despite the knowledge that all other parties were suffering under the same circumstances.

"What's happening?" Winter asked, looking at Jacin as if he held all the answers in the world.

"I don't know," Jacin replied, having to yell above the roar or people. "But I know this can't last for long."

Winter nodded, all the wonder of before vanquished by fear. But in spite of the terror she clearly felt, she set her jaw, releasing the railing and taking hold of Jacin's hand, intertwining her icy fingers with his own. Somehow, the feeling grounded him.

With an unearthly gurgle, the stern began to descend, people screaming and falling from the deck all the while. The sound of the sea swallowing the second half of the ship was a roar cried by a vicious oceanic lion, preparing to devour them in its icy depths.

"When the ship goes under," Jacin shouted. "It's going to pull us with it. So before we go down I need you to take a deep breath of air."

"Uh-huh," Winter nodded vigorously, taking deep breaths as if in preparation.

"Once we are under, I need you to kick. Start kicking and don't stop until your head breaks the surface. Your lifejacket will pull you up towards the sky, so follow it. Hold onto my hand. Unless I'm dragging you down, don't let go of my hand."

"I will never release you from my hold!" Winter cried, her eyes flashing with anger despite their current situation. "You cannot ask for me to abandon you. I will hold onto you until the end."

"Alright," Jacin agreed, somewhat exasperated but knowing that there was not enough time for them to argue over the situation. "Just remember what I said. A big breath and then kick your way toward the surface."

"Okay," Winter hissed, squeezing his hand tight.

Together they sat there as the ship descended into the icy depths of the sea, holding onto one another for comfort. Jacin thought of Rikan and Kai, and how their bodies would already be beneath the surface of the waves. He couldn't help but think of Cinder, a girl he'd never been particularly fond of. Her husband— the father of her unborn child— had died upon that night, taking a bullet meant for Jacin. He had sacrificed his life, and Cinder would never know unless Winter and Jacin made it out alive. It made him sick to imagine Kai's death put down to being the victim of a tragic accident rather than the heroic sacrifice it had been.

Jacin was glad that he had killed Aimery, not only for Kai's sake, but for Winter's as well. He had known her such a short while, but already he loved her more than the moon loved the earth or the stars the sky. She was his everything— the beginning and the end, and the idea that Aimery had caused her any harm made him grateful to know that he rested beneath the frozen depths of the sea.

The water screamed louder than the thoughts in Jacin's head, but somehow he managed to yell out to Winter to take a final breath as they sunk into the blackness.

Immediately the cold stole all his breath away. He'd known that it would be bad— that it would make everything hurt in a way that only fire and ice could— but somehow it was a pain unimaginable unless being felt. It felt like the lick of a thousand blades against every inch of his skin, tearing him open and exposing all that he was to the cold.

He kicked toward the surface, his fingers glued to Winter's through the cold. The suction of the ship pulled at them, dragging them farther beneath the surface until Jacin's ears popped, but they fought all the same, dragging their bodies up toward the surface.

But something was wrong— Jacin's body wouldn't propel at the same speed as Winter's despite his best efforts to kick. Her lifejacket was pulling her toward the night air, and he was only slowing her down. If she kept hold of him, she might never break the surface.

In his heart he apologized, ripping his fingers from her grasp, doing his best to shove her up toward the surface. He felt her fingers scramble to hold onto his, knowing that she would be furious if she knew what he was doing. But he didn't care. He wouldn't drag her down into the depths of the sea. Her lifejacket would pull her up, and perhaps he would manage to swim toward the surface with his hands free.

His eyes opened in the blackness, stinging against the salt of the water and the freezing temperature of it. He couldn't see a thing, but he knew that if he could, he would see only her face, staring down at him quite possibly for the last time.

Somehow his fingers, completely numb as they were, felt colder without hers in his own. And as he swam against the overpowering pull of the sinking ship, he realized that he was completely and utterly alone.


End file.
